


Only For You

by Renyo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Time Travel, no dementor incident, set after tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renyo/pseuds/Renyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry moves into the headquarters of the Order of Phoenix during summer, Sirius tells him the secret of the attic located in the forgotten corner of Grimmauld Place. Only when unbound curiosity and vicious nightmares drive him to seek comfort in the mysterious room, does he realize he really should not push his luck. </p><p>AU: Set after the Tournament. No dementor incident. Time travel, slash TMR/HP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Attic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayMarlow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayMarlow/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowline does. Any infringement is not intended. Thank you for your time.
> 
> Tags, warnings, characters will be added as the story progresses.

Most members of the Order had gone out on the mission. Mrs. Weasley had ordered the children including Harry and Hermione to stay in the Grimmauld Place for the day. They could not go anywhere for fear of Death Eater’s attacks. Although the Gryffindors were upset about their limited freedom, they had no choice but to obey.

 

In the living room, Bill and Charlie sat a sofa discussing the current events on Daily Prophet with Sirius. Fred and George were staying in their room, finalizing their new inventions. The Golden Trio and Ginny were doing their homework, much to Hermione’s delight and Ron’s detriment. Hermione believed it was a great opportunity to get the two boys to review the materials from last year, so she dragged them to the dining table. Harry appreciated her effort to distract him from thinking about the Tournament and picked up his quill to write his Charms assignment. However, the brief study session soon turned into bickering contest between the bushy haired witch and the loud freckled teen.

 

“Ron, for the last time I am not going to do the homework for you. I have given you reference pages from my resources, but you don’t bother to open your textbook!”

 

“C’mon, Hermione! All your resources are heavy dusty tomes that are probably forgotten for a good reason. They are boring and the words are too tiny to see.”

 

“I am not helping you if you are only seeking my help out of sheer laziness. Your Animagus form must be a sloth I swear!”

 

The arguments were giving Harry a headache. His working progress was slightly better than Ron because he wanted to find something focus on other than immersing himself in the horrible memory of Cedric’s death. He had become less talkative in the summer. When night fell, nightmares of Voldemort’s rebirth drove him to insomnia. Dudley kept taunting Cedric because he heard Harry screaming his name. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were simply passive aggressive in their approach to make his life difficult but at least he could deal with their silence. He knew it wasn’t mentally healthy to continue like this, but he couldn’t suppress the memories from resurfacing.

 

Unfortunately for Harry, Ron and Hermione were not aware of his annoyance and kept themselves in their own bubbly world, sort of. On his left, Harry could tell from the black fringe of his hair Ginny was gazing at him and expecting him to whisk her away from the endless boredom. He adored Ginny. He would have tried dating her, but with the five Weasley boys being so overprotective, Harry subconsciously decided to stay clear of her. Besides, he heard from Ron that she had been exchanging letters with Dean for the whole summer. He really didn’t want to be intrusive.

 

Finally getting enough, he stood up and made an excuse of going to washroom, quickly vanishing before anyone could follow. Ron and Hermione were too absorbed in their verbal sparring to notice his disappearance. Maybe he could set them up when he had the right mind to do it.

 

He went upstairs as quietly as he could. The stairs were not maintained so well over the years and creaked at every step he had yet to take. Small splinters protruded from mahogany banisters. The corridors were dimly lit with fading magical fire. It was a gloomy sight. Sirius had told him he hated the dark atmosphere in this house. Even standing close to the fireplace, he could never get rid of the feeling something sinister was in the corner. The other adults except Moody dismissed him for being paranoid. Mrs. Weasley scolded him for scaring the children even though that only got the twins more excited.

 

As he wandered up the house, he now stood in front of the entrance to the attic. What did Sirius say about this place? Something about hide and seek.

 

_Harry sat close to Sirius, listening to his childhood story._

_“There are few good memories in my childhood, Harry. However, I can recall one time where the hag of my mother did not curse me for messing around the house. I was very young, playing hide and seek with her. One-sided, of course, she would never approve of anything fun let alone participating in one. She was pissed off that I did not behave properly at the Yule Ball as a pureblood heir should. Afraid of her punishment, I ran up to the attic and stayed there, and I witnessed something incredible.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“_ **_Seulement pour vous_ ** _, a small rumour that runs in my family,” said Sirius with a tired smile._

_“Huh?”_

_“At first, I thought I was on the other side of my home. There was a woman, an exact replica of my mother. She smiled and welcomed me with open arms. I was suspicious. At Grimmauld Place, nothing good ever happens. The woman saw I didn’t trust her. She wandlessly summoned a tea table for two and asked me to join her. I turned around to leave but couldn’t find the door. Staring at the lady, I decided I was probably dreaming and would wake up later. With nothing else to do, I sat with her. She asked me what I wanted to do._

_Back then, I wanted the unconditional love from my mother, so I asked her to play with me. She agreed without a second thought. In front of me, a beautiful garden appeared. We got ourselves dirty and messy. We had a round of broom race and flew in a speed that should have me grounded for a month. She taught me a few spells that later inspired me to become pranksters. I knew she wasn’t my mother, but I feel drawn to her warm embrace and genuine laughs. She did not yell or curse me for being unruly. Kreacher was not there to carry out my real mother’s punishment. But good things never lasted long. In the end, I had to go away. She kissed me goodbye and wished my luck back in my reality.”_

_“That sounds like the Mirror of Erised, only that it’s real for some time.”_

_“Indeed, afterwards I secretly asked my uncle Alphard about this place. He said one of my more sane ancestors created the room so his nephew could take refuge during the mourning period of someone close to him. It’s charmed to let you experience what you most need there, but the wonder only lasts for a while depending on the size of your magical core. There are limitations as well. For instance, you can’t revive people who passed away, or my ancestor would have made his nephew go estranged. Furthermore, this world would only appear once for the rightful time.”_

_Harry was disappointed when Sirius pointed out the shortcomings. Still, the room sounded amazing. Sensing Harry’s growing interest, Sirius continued,_

_“Uncle Alphard also told me the setting of the room is rumoured to be different for each person. _While they may only lose a few hours in the reality, the time they spend in the room ranges from hours to years._ Sometimes, the room can act as a portal for powerful wizards and witches whose desire cannot be easily satisfied.The portal will send them to Somewhere Else. He didn’t know what it means, only that the setting lasts longer than others. Deep inside my mind, I knew why my setting didn’t activate the portal. At the tender age of six, I already knew my mother would never love me, and I do not have the power to change that.”_

_Sirius’ eyes turned hollow and cast down to the carpet. The room fell into uncomfortable silence, but Sirius hadn’t finished the story yet. Harry spoke to stop Sirius from watching the carpet like it was the most fascinating thing in the room,_

_“You said your mother didn’t punish you, are you referring to the woman in the-“_

_“No, not the kind lady. When I left the place, I found myself lying on the dirty floor of attic. Kreacher immediately appeared and brought me to my mother. I thought my punishment finally came. I was surprised to see my mother just standing there. She asked me where I have been for the past eight hours._

_Lying wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I gave a short explanation of my adventure in the attic. Her eyes widened at my answer. Then, she left. Something akin to nostalgia shone in her eyes, but I was too relieved for myself to bother asking why. She didn’t even school her expression back to the usual scowling for the whole day now I think about it… I wonder if she had visited that place as a child.”_

_Sirius paused to turn his head in the direction of his mother’s portrait and ended the story._

_“Next day, I visited the attic. It was just a storage room full of dark artifacts.”_

 

Harry started to hesitate. What if he was trapped? Sure, people downstairs would be alerted of his disappearance, but would they manage to find him on time? Then again, there was a big chance he would probably end up disappointed at the inertness of the attic. Besides if the attic didn’t do harm to Sirius in the long run, surely it wouldn’t hurt him to enter? Perhaps the room would alleviate his foul mood. Marching with his Gryffindor bravery, he unlocked the door and peaked into the darkness. The murky windows didn’t help lighting up the whole floor, but as far as Harry could see, there was no friendly Mrs. Black in sight. Sirius did say the room could change into something different for him. However, nothing unusual appeared to give him any reason for staying. Silently, Harry closed the door and went downstairs to help Mrs. Weasley preparing for dinner.

 

* * *

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

As the curse shot right through Cedric’s body, survival instinct kicked in and Harry promptly startled from his dream. Although Ron was snoring right next to him, he could hear his heart pulsing and throbbing. His pajamas were entirely soaked. Teardrops dripping and merging with sweat beads on his palms, he wiped the wetness all on the sheets and changed into a set of dry sweater and jeans.

 

He needed to do something; any distraction would do. _A walk in the house, maybe?_ _Not without my wand and cloak, though, constant vigilance and all that,_ he recalled the real Moody’ catchphrase. You could never be too careful, after all. Given his personal history, who knew what would befall him even in this strongly warded location? He put on his Invisibility Cloak and stealthily got out of the room.

 

He paused as Sirius and Remus were descending to the ground floor. Right now, they could do without worrying over Harry. His two father figures would definitely ask how the nightmares were affecting him even though they had enough on their plate. That said, he quickly detoured and went upstairs to check out the attic again. Harry thought, _maybe something will turn out at midnight; Hermione did say midnight holds a potent magical property that enables transition, or is it transformation?_

 

The ascension didn’t take much time; Harry stood at the door to the attic once again. This time, he didn’t hesitate to run into the attic. Yet as he began traversing into the night shrouded place, he fell into a bottomless pit of darkness.


	2. Troubled Traveler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to YumeNoTsuzuki for beta-ing this chapter. Love you, darling~
> 
> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, setting, and technical terms belong to their respective owners. Warnings may go up in the future.

Harry kept falling and tumbling in an invisible spiralling stream. His stomach lurched as he constantly bumped into a constant horizontal force. It was worse than using a portkey or the Floo network. If this torture were not ending anytime soon, there would be more damage done to him than just losing appetite for a day. However, the descent into somewhere unknown did remind him of Alice in Wonderland.

 

Once, Harry hid behind the wall of Dursley’s living room to watch Alice in Wonderland; Dudley wasn’t too fond of the Disney movie because it didn’t have explosions and epic fights, saying it was too ‘girly.’ Ignoring Dudley’s temper tantrum in the background, his eyes were glued to the television for the whole duration of movie. He saw how Alice fell into the rabbit hole and her blue dress helped her float in the air even though gravity was supposed to pull her down. Maybe that was how Wonderland functioned, however Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the fictional dimension in children’s tale. You see, he was jealous of Alice’s smooth journey to her unknown destination.

 

 _What I wouldn’t do for that dress if only to lessen the pain in this bumpy trip_ , Harry silently grumbled at his predicament. He was not a cross-dresser, but all magical transportation means he had encountered had a thing against him somehow. Anything to improve his traveling experience was highly welcome, thank you very much. He wished he had his Firebolt with him. The air current might be unpredictable, but at least he could adjust his direction to decrease the number of head on collisions with the transparent barrier.

 

His body started accelerating forward as he saw a small light circle opening up ahead. This was it. His journey through the space had come to an end, but what lay beyond the hole was a complete mystery. Harry embraced the impeding impact and closed his eyes as light swallowed him.

 

In Harry’s original world, a Dark Lord found something vital missing in his connection with the Boy-Who-Lived.

 

* * *

_Midnight, suburb area near London_

Good Harry had let her go explore after being cooped up in the fat whale’s nest for who knew how long. Hedwig had been very productive lately and ready to show off her superior hunting skills when Harry needed her again. He would be so proud, she was sure of it.

 

Ever since she regained her freedom, she had been practicing how to wound a rat without killing it, remembering how last year her Harry had lamented about a certain treacherous rodent called Peter. She knew she was a good owl─ no, the only good owl for her wayward companion. No one should dare harm her Harry in any way. She would claw their enemies’ eyes out for Harry even if he disapproved.

 

Just as she swooped down to practice on another rat, her instinct told her that Harry was in trouble again. She huffed and rolled her eyes. Spending so much time with Harry and two other humans had rubbed off on her. Heading towards London, she soared into the sky and glided towards Harry’s location.

 

For ten minutes, Hedwig flew to Harry’s new nest and spent some time uncovering loopholes in the multilayers of wards around it. Eventually, her beak bit off the rusty lock on the panel window and she got into the house. Wards were useless when Hedwig was determined to get Harry out of the claws of bad men. Supposedly, the other humans were delegated to protect him, but obviously they were not doing a good job.

 

 _Humans are stupid. They don’t even realize Harry is gone. It’s left to me to rescue Harry now_ , Hedwig thought as she flew past the dog-man and the wolf having a heartfelt discussion by the unlit fireplace.

 

She could feel something stirring at the top of the dark nest. Quickly changing her route, Hedwig flew past an ever-changing she-human and caused her to stumble and fall on her knees.

 

“What the- stupid owl,” Tonks whined, pulling her night robes aside slightly to see if there were any bruises forming.

 

As Hedwig arrived on the top floor, a shimmering wormhole was circling at a door. Her eyes glared at the small dot shrinking inside the hole and realized what the small dot was. It was Harry! Did he think that entering into a random room that appeared out of nowhere was a safe and sound idea? Of course he did; her human never learned to keep his curiosity in check. Hedwig did an equivalent of a human sigh and prepared herself for another flight. Flapping her wings, she set off at once.

 

When she returned with her Harry, she was going to demand lots of new owl treats for the trouble.

* * *

**Thump**!

His left shoulder blade made first contact with floor. His back landed squarely on the ground next. Hid body hurt everywhere, but he had to bear with it for now. His glasses and cloak were still intact despite the chaotic turn of events. Glancing around his surroundings, he noticed that he was in a corridor. Harry could see the sun was set above the sky, allowing summer light to flow between the magnificent pillars. The shade formed a beautiful, geometric pattern that he wouldn’t have noticed when the student body bustled in and out. A breeze gently brushed past his cheeks and carried on. The school had a lovely view when it was very quiet. Upon closer inspection of his surroundings, Harry found the way to his right led to the entrance to Great Hall.  

 

 _Wait, why am I at Hogwarts?_ As much as he loved to be back at his first home, this was not what Harry expected from the attic.

 

_‘_ _ Sometimes, it can act as a portal for powerful wizards and witches whose desire cannot be easily satisfied.’ _ _, he remembered._

_So I have activated the portal, but what’s the point of coming here? If I were any normal teenager, I would probably mourn for losing one week of summer,_ Harry pondered over the purpose of this journey, unaware of the presence behind himself.

 

“Please, young sir. Excuse Missi for being rude. I must take you straight to Headmaster Dippet’s office. Missi really is sorry… ,” a house elf popped in. Harry noticed Missi didn’t address Dumbledore as headmaster, and the name Dippet did sound quite familiar. Could he possibly be…

 

_Oh shit, does that mean I’ve somehow travelled back…?_

When the epiphany dawned on him, Missi stunned him and grabbed his immobile body, dragging him to where Headmaster and Dumbledore were standing.

 

“Well, I was not suspecting a student so eager to come back. Magic knows how many of them just can’t get enough of summer, but I am fairly certain I have never seen this young man before. What says you, Albus? Do you think he may be a spy?”

 

“I cannot be sure, Armando. I doubt Grindelwald would send someone so young and reckless into Britain. However, the possibility cannot be excluded. Several alarms detected a tremendous wave of magic originating from Great Hall. One of the old house elves said the energy quickly dissipated when he went to investigate. Only this boy was lying at the spot. We do not have any clue as to the cause of outburst, which means only this young boy can answer us, ” said Dumbledore. Dippet nodded at his colleague and gave him permission to wake Harry. Dumbledore gracefully raised his wand and cast the counter spell.

 

“Ugh,” Harry groaned rubbing his the back of head.

 

Then, Dumbledore calmly recited two spells without a pause, “Incarcerous, Expelliarmus.”

 

Shocked, Harry tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position. He looked up and found his future professor towering over him. This Dumbledore looked about middle aged. His hair and beard were tinted with brownish red. Instead of the usual grandfatherly kindness, younger Dumbledore emitted a formidable aura. Harry frowned at the stern face directed towards him. Unlike his future mentor, this Dumbledore was suspicious of his identity and less likely to be nice to him.

 

“I am Armando Dippet, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Standing beside me is Albus Dumbledore, a professor of Hogwarts. Forgive us for the callous treatment, but we have to be on constant vigilance especially in dangerous times,” said the older man. “I assure you this will be soon over. All you need to do is to speak truth.”

 

Dumbledore took out a small vial of potion from the pocket of his robe. Not knowing what the potion would do, Harry started panicking.

 

“What will that potion do to me?” Harry asked.

 

“Do not worry. It’s just Veritaserum- or truth serum. I will just give you a dose of this and ask you some questions. There is no side effect even though it doesn’t taste good either. We promise we would only ask what is necessary,” Dumbledore soothed Harry with a calming tone. Harry, feeling more confident, downed the potion in one go and let it worm its way to his mind. Just as expected, the potion was awful.

 

“What is your name?”

 

“Harry James Potter.”

 

“What is your purpose coming to Hogwarts?”

 

“I didn’t even know I would be here, sirs.”

 

The inability to speak out of his own volition made Harry sick. He hated being forced to respond more than he wanted, just like his experience with Imperio cast by Barty Crouch Jr. Though he would never admit it, he had to thank the Death Eater for teaching him that particular Unforgivable. If Veritaserum were any similar to Imperio, then it should be possible to minimize the effect by resisting the force.

 

“Then, Harry, answer this. Do you come to Magical Britain under the order of Gellert Grindelwald or his regime?” At this question, both old men scrutinized at him for a sign of his allegiance.

 

“I do not belong to Grindelwald’s force or any dark wizard for that matter. To be honest, professors, I didn’t even know why I would end up here. I couldn’t fall asleep so I went to the attic of my godfather’s house. Somehow the attic just transported me here,” said Harry relieved to see both professors had let down their guard. It was difficult to overcome the force in his head, but he was glad to see the result. Although many details were omitted in his statement, it was impeccably true no one would question his credibility.

 

“Well, it’s a relief to know I won’t need to contact the Aurors. A magical accident like this is quite uncommon, but not unheard of,” Dippet eased, returning to his mild stature. Dumbledore gave Harry the counter potion and helped him stand up.

 

Finally released from the interrogation, Harry wobbled, but took the opportunity to ask, “May I ask, sir, what year am I in?”

 

Dumbledore blinked owlishly at his question. As for Dippet, his mouth formed a large circle but he indulged Harry’s curiosity anyway.

 

“If you must know, child, it is 1942. The school will start in two days. Hmm. Should I lead you to the Hospital Wing, Harry? You look like you could do with some rest. Ms. Pomfrey is our new nurse of Hogwarts, but she will properly take care of you. Yes, a check-up shouldn’t take too long. In fact, it is common occurrence that a victim of magical accidents can suffer temporary amnesia about certain facts,” Armando emphasized the last sentence, which annoyed Harry immensely. His escapade into past did not damage his lucidity at all. Losing his temper would not help him though, so Harry kept his suave comeback to himself.

 

“No, I mean, thanks. Uh, I will go to Hospital Wing later.”

 

_Oh, this is going to be more awkward than I had imagined._

 

“Professors, I apologize for occupying your precious time, especially when the school is back in full swing. However, would you mind indulging me a bit more before you consider sending me to Hospital Wing? My unexpected entrance to Hogwarts is not just a regular ‘magical accident’, per say. I know this may come out as ridiculous, and I have no better way to put this. I am from future, 1995 to be precise,” Harry said, holding his breath to gauge at reactions of the two men. Dippet was gaping at him, but Dumbledore had a warm smile plastered on his face.

 

“For you to travel through time, Harry, it was a significant achievement. Would you tell me exactly how you get into the attic of your godfather’s house? Is there anything you know that we are not aware of?” Dumbledore asked with concern. Harry supposed he was getting into his professor’s good graces. Being a penniless time traveler stranded in a wartime period might have rendered him more noteworthy. Perhaps, he could subtly offer information to assist them.

 

Yet, Harry felt disappointed to only have Dumbledore’s support after he revealed his true identity. Doubt was planted, and Harry wondered if the future Dumbledore ever changed from his young counterpart. Nevertheless, people were desperate in perilous time, so this younger Dumbledore, though powerful, was only doing what was best for the greater good.

 

From that point on, Harry succinctly explained the mechanisms of the attic. Dumbledore and Dippet listened with rapt attention and occasionally threw in one question. In the end, they decided to enroll Harry into the school, at the last minute. It was expected that Harry would be able to go home whenever he obtained ‘what he most needed’ here. There was no foreseeable harm coming to Hogwarts after all. Dippet was very courteous to offer Harry the required textbooks and other miscellaneous necessities. Dumbledore would give Harry a monthly allowance to make sure he could afford a few snacks in Hogsmeade.

 

“For the time being, you will live in the provided quarters until you are sorted at the Opening Feast with the first year and some other foreign students. Then, you will get to know your housemates. Ah, friendship does bring wonders to everyone who once attended this school. That reminds me, which house did you say you are in the future, Harry? I don’t think I caught it,” asked Dumbledore.

 

“Gryffindor, sir. To be honest, professor Dumbledore, I thought I didn’t need a re-sorting. I have been a Gryffindor for four years and still counting,” said Harry puzzled by this conversation.

 

Dumbledore continued, “Ah, but we must adhere to traditions, Harry. Besides, people can change, so will their desires and needs. A re-sorting may help you in your quest as well. Don’t worry, wherever you go, you shall get along with your housemates just fine, even the Slytherins. I am the Head of Gryffindor House; if there is anything you need, just come to my office. I will be more than happy to help.”

 

With that, Dumbledore summoned Missi to lead Harry to his living quarters and left to deal with the enrollment paperwork. To put it mildly, Harry was dumbfounded at the bomb Dumbledore had just dropped.

 

_Merlin help me, the bloody Sorting Hat almost sorted me into Slytherin in my first year. Who’s to say it won’t do it this time. I won’t last a day in Slytherin House, especially when Voldemort is still a student here! Whether I like it or not, a transfer student is rare here and I am bound to be noticed._

 

Realization struck. Dumbledore was right. If he could get close to Voldemort and learn his weaknesses, he could have a better chance of defeating him. Even if that failed, studying your enemy always helped. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps, what he most needed was to find a way to destroy Voldemort.

 

Harry really appreciated what the attic had brought to him. Just like Sirius did. He caressed his cloak one last time and folded it into his new trunk. Forgetting his appointment with the nurse, he sank into the four poster bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Guide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: YumeNoTsuzuki. Thank you darling~

_The body was leaning still and cold against a weatherworn gravestone. Lips once red and full turned grey like the forgotten ashes in an unused fireplace. Even though he was dead, you could still feel his murky, lifeless eyes on you. Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Head Boy, great Seeker, supposedly Champion of Hogwarts, whatever he was called. You had both reached the ultimate destination of the Tournament._

_Yes, you remember it all now. You had suggested that the two of you should grab the Cup at the same time, so you could both win fair and square, for Hogwarts. But was it really “fair and square”? In the end, you only brought destruction and death upon him. Was it **fair** to drag him into your bizarrely violent life when evil was after you again? Was it **just** for him to die so you could live? Voldemort reborn, at the height of his power, was right there; his sole attention on you. Cedric didn’t matter, but he was an obstacle nonetheless. Voldemort didn’t even bat his non-existent eyelashes when he cast the Killing Curse at the brown-haired boy. _

 

_He once had a bright future ahead of him. A proud father was waiting for him to come back – victorious and proud, hailed as a hero. He was still waiting there, at school. Did he have a dream career he had wanted to pursue? At the Ministry, maybe? Perhaps, he had wanted to marry his girlfriend sometime in the future. They could have been so happy together. Of course there were countless more things he had wanted to do, but he would never get to experience any of them because of you._

_ It‘s all your fault. _

_Denial is not an option; you literally led him to an inevitable death. The mortality rate of the Triwizard Tournament might have been conspicuously high, but past records probably did not account for murder by a powerful Dark Lord. Until now, that is. How come trying to save someone must lead to two months of overwhelming guilt and never ending nightmares?_

_Why bother with Gryffindor honor to share eternal glory with him when there is a death trap ahead?_

 

_The graveyard melted away as Harry’s fear manifested further. The supposedly dead champion was now lying on the ground of Hogwarts and hissed at Harry. Grey eyes blazed with vehement sorrow and hatred, the same emotions he saw when the elder Diggory found his son’s body. No one save himself saw Cedric’s lively, horrid expression. The father bent his wobbling knees and looked desperately for any sign of life. The formerly cheerful crowd ceased to holler and clap and waited in tense silence to see what happened. Not able to bear the atmosphere, he walked to Dumbledore, whispering the worse news that could doom the magical world - Voldemort’s return. Dumbledore nodded and accepted his words at face value. Moody led him back to the castle. However, Harry didn’t expect him to be a fake. Apparently, the impersonator was the son of Bartemius Crouch, Barty Crouch Jr., a loyal servant of Voldemort, who Harry had been seeing in his dreams all summer. His entry into the Triwizard Tournament had all been orchestrated by Barty._

 

Then he woke up with a start. His ribs hurt from breathing in the cold air. As he surveyed around the richly decorated room, he was being suffocated by his solitude and feelings. Reaching for his holly wand on the side table, he spelled himself clean from the sweat and tears although he still felt dirty inside his mind. Not willing to dwell on his grim memories any further, he rose from the cotton-threaded four poster bed and cast a tempus. _4:35 a.m… Three hours away from breakfast hour._

 

Falling asleep was not possible anymore, so Harry decided to hit the library and grabbed a few books on powerful jinxes and curses. A simple disarming charm was not going to do the same trick twice in a duel. Luck might have saved him from occasions, but it did not guarantee the safety and happiness of other people. It was a hard lesson learned too late in his opinion.

 

* * *

_At the Welcoming Feast_

 

Harry overlooked the Gryffindor table. The sitting plan was mixed up and he could see many older students were hanging out with younger ones. He would have joined the red and golden crowd in a heartbeat were the situation not so dire. However, none of the lions looked even remotely familiar. No red hair popping up in his line of view, Harry was disappointed to note and uncertainly shifted his eyes away, towards Slytherin’s table.

 

In comparison to Gryffindor’s rambunctious house spirit, Slytherins were very refined and orderly. The noise was kept to minimum. They would chat among themselves quietly and only occasionally cast one or two disdainful glances at the lions without being detected. Not that any of the Gryffindors would ever notice. They were too busy catching up with others and gossiping about trivial matters such as who broke up with whom during the summer break.

 

Near the end of the Slytherin table, Harry found the handsome Tom Riddle sitting with his goons. A platinum blond haired boy with recognizably pale grey eyes was on his right side. Trust Malfoy’s grandfather to be a lapdog of Voldemort’s. Six other boys were flanked around them and sending high praises, except Tom Riddle did not care for such trivialities.

 

A few seats away from the future Death Eaters, a young Walburga Black was having a conversation with an average-looking girl with a hooked nose. If her face wasn’t distorted with rage, Walburga wouldn’t look very intimidating, unlike how she was pictured in the portrait at Grimmauld Place. Yet, if Sirius’ words were anything to go by, she was probably already the same as the opinionated, unpleasant hag who screamed colourful profanities rivaled only by Sirius’ repertoire of insults.

 

The Sorting Ceremony soon began. Dumbledore was holding the Sorting Hat in his left hand and a scroll in his right. The first years were going first. The old professor raised the parchment to eye level and read the first name off the list loud and clear.

 

“Black, Alphard!”

 

 _Alphard? Wasn’t he Sirius’_ _favourite_ _uncle mentioned in his childhood story?_

 

To say he was happy would be an understatement. He was ecstatic to see a vaguely familiar figure in a sea of strangers. Alphard held a good-humored demeanor similar to Sirius’, though more restrained. His semi-long hair was flowing freely as he walked towards the stool at the top of the steps. The young boy was sporting a childish grin. Looking back to the Slytherin table, Harry could see Walburga gritting her teeth and mumbling something along the lines of inappropriate behaviour. If the young version of Walburga detested her younger brother so much for being an improper pureblood, then Harry was definitely going to become acquainted with this Alphard.

 

Harry stood among the foreign students, bored and impatient. Back in first year, he was so excited and eager to be a part of this magical world. Ron had told him all the bad wizards and witches went to Slytherin. Initially, he thought it was just his best friend’s prejudice speaking, but Malfoy’s existence didn’t help to support his counter argument. In the end, he opted to go for Gryffindor when Ron also mentioned that Voldemort once belonged to the House of Snake. He almost got into the house of Slytherin if not for his own persistent plea. Harry wondered: if he was supposed to be a Slytherin in his first year, surely the house was not as bad as it rumoured to be? Or was it?

 

Finally, the first years were all sorted. Professor Dumbledore picked up another scroll and announced the first foreign student on the list.

 

“Almstedt, Inge.”

“Slytherin!”

 

“Brahms, Jo.”

“Gryffindor!”

 

“Durándi, Aurél!”

“Slytherin!”

 

“Hozumi, Shun!”

“Hufflepuff!”

 

“Jedynak, Otylia”

“Ravenclaw!”

 

The Hat didn’t take long to figure out each one of them. Harry wondered where he actually belonged. Would the Hat still want to sort him into Slytherin, or had he become the epitome of a proud and brave Gryffindor? The animated hat had once informed him that he could be both. Yet, could he suppress his fiery temper among those expressionless snakes while keeping up with their intricate politics?

 

“Potter, Harry!”

 

It was his turn now. Some names before P were lost to him as he was having his whole attention devoted to his surroundings. Unlike in the 90’s, people didn’t know who he was. Here, Harry Potter was not a spectacle to be gawked at. _Just Harry_. The absence of peering eyes was a refreshing start for his fifth year.

 

The indifferent stream of students parted to let him through, and he calmly paced towards the platform and nodded at his future headmaster. As Professor Dumbledore put the Sorting Hat on Harry’s head, he could feel as if the whole world had suddenly ceased to move. Confusion washing over him, he stared at every table in front of him to check if he was going insane. Yet, he was right. No one was moving an inch from their spot. Fire torches were brightening the Great Hall but not dancing. Dumbledore was looking at him, but not looking at the same time. Then, the Hat talked.

 

“Hmmm, I have sorted you before, but why is that? Ah, the time traveler from the future. It’s been – what was it – three centuries since the last one who attempted to get himself resorted. It wasn’t successful. He still got into the same house as before, or rather, after,” the wrinkled hat seemed to smirk with tiny amusement.

 

 “What? Home come you know who I am? You’re in the past, um, in my perspective anyway!” said Harry.

 

“My ability comes from being a Sorting Hat. That’s all I’m going to tell you. The more important question you can ask is: who am I? I have been asking myself the same question since Rowena created me. Am I a clever, sentient hat that Time could not touch? Or, ironically speaking, could I be a timeless being trapped in a decaying piece of cloth? Alas, it’s been a thousand years with no obvious answers to my questionable identity. It’s not important to you although you may want to hear me out about your little dimension escapade,” the Hat cleared his throat, assuming a talking hat had one to begin with.

 

“I’m acting as your Guide in your endeavor of finding your heart’s desired and needed,” the Hat pronounced with pride.

 

Puzzled, Harry responded, “Your sentiment is appreciated, but I’m fairly certain finding Voldemort’s weakness counts as my first and foremost desired result of this little time traveling trip. Thank you very much.” _Maybe I can destroy his diary so Ginny would be safe from any traumatic experiences._

 

Suddenly, the Sorting Hat straightened its form and started screeching in an eerily annoyed voice.

 

“Whoever goes through the journey will be delegated with a Guide. Your godfather told you about his visit, did he not? He had the other Guide who looked like his mother. All visitors will be accompanied by a Guide because they do not know what they actually want, or are simply too afraid to admit it. By the way, it’s necessary for you to have me as your Guide, you ungrateful brat. Without me, you won’t be able to return to your own timeline even if you accomplished your goal. I will have to send you back when the time comes. In the meantime, you shall fumble around and make plenty of stupid mistakes without any divine assistance – namely, me – to back you up! At this moment, I am getting very inclined to leave you to your own devices,” the Hat huffed in indignation.

 

Harry winced at the Hat’s harsh tone. He really should watch his tongue when the Hat was only trying to help him.

 

Excluding the Dursleys, many Muggle adults had ignored his pleas for help and bashed him for insolence before. Eventually, he learned that everyone would just turn a blind eye, so he moved on. However, magic changed everything for him. For years, he had kept himself quiet and independent. Even when someone asked about his wellbeing, he would just throw out some excuses. All of them would believe every derogatory comment towards him from his relatives anyway.

 

When Vernon tried to keep the Hogwarts acceptance letters from Harry, Hagrid broke into the stinky hut on a desolate island and rescued him (temporarily) from the vicious cycle of neglect and beating. It was a big milestone in Harry’s life. Although there was no kind distant relative to keep him from the Dursleys, he could at least stay away from them for eight months per year. And magic. Something his “family” had always condemned in their ‘perfectly normal’ household. It was real, and he had the power to make better of himself despite the hurt he suffered in his miserable childhood.

_What if I couldn’t go back? It sucks that a premature Dark Lord is here doing his evil shenanigans already. He can’t possibly ditch me here right?_

 

“Oh shush, I’ll be watching over you to make sure you’re in one piece when you go back. Not that you will ever die, but I do have a conscience.”

 

Relief washed over the nervous fifteen-year-old. Rolling his eyes, he replied, “Nice to know someone cares.” It was harsher than he had intended. Nonetheless, the Hat-Guide understood his message and didn’t take offense at it.

 

The Hat carried on, “We can have another meeting later about your return trip ticket. Now, let’s talk about what you want. I noticed you said defeating Voldemort is your top priority. You have a brave heart, I will give you that. However, your heroic conquest is not important compared to your own happiness. The focus of your quest is for you only. _Seulement Pour Vous,_ _or Only For You in English._ Besides, you have many ways to vanquish the murderer of your parents; many alternate universes prove just that.”

 

“What –.”

 

“Your desire to defeat the man is something the Wizarding World back in your own time imposes upon you. Fate seems to have a hand in this as well, but we’re not getting into that. Boy-Who-Lived? You weren’t even aware of this silly title or the magical world before the age of eleven. Think, Harry, think. You may have developed different ideals and stomached the most dangerous tasks thrown your way, but there is one thing you’ve always wanted. Your true desire has always resided within you. You know it, and you still want it despite putting others’ needs before your own,” said the Hat softly into his ears as each word painfully pierced the veil that separated Harry’s naïve ideals from his hardened heart.

 

He was determined to hide his scars – on his body and his heart – for the rest of his life. No one would want to see them. Not even his friends. He feared opening up too much to them; it would only make them feel pity and think him weak. Thanks to basic healing magic and Dudley’s old baggy clothes, he could easily conceal the blemishes and the scars. He loved his two best friends and the Weasley family. Also, Sirius had promised he would take him and Remus in once his name was cleared. As if the dog animagus was a mature, responsible adult. Still, it was a hopeful ideal he could cling to.

 

He missed his parents, but the Mirror of Desired taught him it was impossible to ever have them back. It was a sheer miracle he got to see them in the duel with Voldemort at the graveyard in Little Hangleton. As to why they appeared, he really didn’t give a damn. It was good enough to know both his parents loved him very, very much.

 

Yet it was not enough.

 

He was not alone, so why did he still feel that something was amiss?

 

“Good, you’re getting somewhere. You can keep thinking about this in private for the following weeks. We don’t have much time left,” the Hat interrupted his morbid thoughts. “So here comes the fun. Last time I didn’t convince you to join the Slytherins. What a pity. You would have evaded a lot of troubles if you had just followed my suggestion. Do you still want to be a Gryffindor? They are fierce and bold, but they may not take kindly towards your unusual talents,” the Hat whispered his warnings.

 

The Parseltongue incident was unforgettable. The whole school literally turned his back on him like he was going Dark. They gaped at him openly, like he was a freak and gossiped relentlessly behind his back. The professors might have been more reserved, however they were wary of his ability too. Surprisingly, Slytherins did not have a smearing campaign against him. They merely guarded him with mild suspicion; but otherwise they never openly insulted or attacked him. It was the first taste of hostility since his debut in magical world. With Hermione’s and Ron’s loyalty though, things weren’t as extremely overbearing as last year.

 

Ron had been jealous from time to time, but Harry would never have anticipated a backstabbing action from his best mate. It hurt to know your friend would walk away from you because he thought you were a glory hound, or as Seamus eloquently put it, an attention whore. Bless Hermione for her ironclad rationality. She was the only sane person to support him throughout the trials. How Ron couldn’t see his lack of interest in glory was beyond him. The hot-headed ginger apologized later, and he was forgiven. They were on good terms now, yet Harry had a feeling Ron’s jealousy might cloud his reason again.

 

If he was placed in Slytherin this time, would the Slytherins be any different? With Voldemort in charge, he would most likely be interrogated and forced into submission. Dark Lords do not share power. At the age of sixteen, Voldemort was already occupying the top spot of the house hierarchy. Luck would not get him anywhere. It would be a battle of wit and will: No Hermione to brainstorm brilliant plans, no Ron to stand beside him. He was marching into danger on his own this time. His mind was in turmoil, but his gut feeling was telling him the same thing as Professor Dumbledore said on his arrival in this era.

 

 _Slytherin it is_.

 

“I’m where I’m meant to be,” Harry muttered under his breath, pursed lips shivering while his clammy palms were nervously clutching his robes. It was going to be a long, long year.

 

“Ha, ha, I knew you would turn around one day, Mr. Potter. I guarantee you: Slytherin will lead you to greatness beyond your imagination. You will find great friends amongst the most cunning and ambitious. I may have emphasized that defeating that dark wizard is not necessarily your goal in your journey, Mr. Potter, but that does not mean he is not connected to your search of happiness. In fact, he is the key that will unlock your destiny. Don’t pout, you should never doubt the Sorting Hat,” the Hat giddily assured him and paused to see how irritated the time-traveling teen was.

 

Harry glared up at the brim of the Hat. Unlocking his destiny? It was cheesy on top of horrible. The implication of friendship with Voldemort caused butterflies to buzz furiously in his stomach. Why did Voldemort always find a way to butt into his life?

 

“All the best of luck to you, Mr. Potter. Don’t forget to visit me when you are available, and you shall be in…SLYTHERIN!”

 

And life returned to Hogwarts as the Hat announced Harry’s fated house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I write a new chapter, it gets longer than the previous one, which is a good thing :D
> 
> Do you know Hozumi means August 1st in Japanese? There are many other Japanese surnames that are named after calendar days too. Although it is a ghost surname, Tsumezume is specifically for November 29th (my birthday). However, every name you see in this chapter except Hozumi Shun is chosen from a random name generator, since I am not familiar with European last names and their origins. 
> 
> As I only know Chinese, English, and Japanese, I couldn't fully utilize the European students here, but it can be done I suppose. There is one TMRHP fanfiction where a Russian guy named Dimitri frequently appears, and the author only takes a few Russian vocabulary here and there. It hasn't been updated for a while so I forgot the name...
> 
> I've been taking summer course (accounting...), but the course should be finished in the third of week of August. My expectation is that before the second week of September there will be another chapter. We shall see!


	4. The New Trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by YumeNoTsuzuki
> 
> Woo-hoo, a chapter posted before school begins!

Only For You Chapter 4

* * *

“A Potter in Slytherin?!” “Maybe he is not from _the_ House of Potter.” “Probably a muggleborn sharing the same last name…” “Nah, he can’t be a mudblood. Look at his hair! Must be from a side branch of the family or something…”

 

Some students exchanged quiet whispers, others were not so subtle. Eyes followed his every step but Harry took it in stride and made a bee line for the Slytherin dining table.

 

_The Sorting Hat had better be right about making great friends_ , thought Harry as he sat next to Alphard Black and the rest of first years as well as Durmstrang students. The Durmstrang students here sought refuge from the war in the European Continent. Until the war was over, they would have to stay at Hogwarts indefinitely. From his observation before the Sorting began, many foreign students did not feel comfortable staying somewhere away from their home. He could relate to their homesickness, but on a rather larger scale.

 

Craning his neck slightly to the right, he watched Tom Riddle’s every move. The other Slytherin met his eyes, and he was inevitably trapped in an intense staring contest. Time was stalled as he felt Riddle’s stare piercing his soul like the fangs of a venomous snake breaking into the flesh of its prey. However, the other Slytherin seemed to lose interest as he saw nothing out of the ordinary in the bespectacled boy. Harry was released from the scrutiny, but this temporary attention from his enemy-to-be left him feeling uneasy and violated.

 

He could barely see the infamous crowd of Death Eaters from his point of view, but it was not a problem. Knowing next to nothing about this era placed him in a disadvantageous position. Thus, he was not ready to confront them. Also, to be honest with himself, he had lost appetite from just sitting in close vicinity of them.

 

“Hi, I’m Alphard.”

 

He was watching the sorting, but a childish voice rang in his ears. Turning swiftly, he saw Sirius’ future uncle extend his chubby hand to him. Harry blinked at the young boy, surprised by his friendly demeanor.

 

Alphard spoke first, “You seem less uptight than the rest of the Slytherins I know. I didn’t know there would be a Potter coming to Hogwarts this year. You look too old to be a first year, though.”

 

“I have been homeschooled since I was 11. However, with the war raging on, my guardian decided to send me to Hogwarts,” Harry responded promptly.

 

This background story was fabricated by him and Professor Dumbledore to curb people’s curiosity. His future Headmaster gave him an outline to begin with and asked him to fill in the details himself. The old professor also warned him about other people taking advantage of his knowledge of future events.

 

_Somehow, I think he was specifically referring to a certain group of Slytherins, or at least the young Dark Lord. Not that he is wrong about Voldemort, but to be fair I think anyone would want to know what will happen in the future._

 

Alphard tilted his head and pondered, “I suppose you’re probably from a side branch of the family then. Merlin, I have so many cousins coming from other pureblood families, and sometimes I just lose track of them. Do you play Quidditch? My brother Cygnus is six years older than me, and he is the Captain of the Slytherin house team. His obsession with Quidditch is probably the only thing that keeps him from being the most annoying sibling of the whole universe. My sister Walburga is the champion for that by the way. She has been winning this achievement every year.”

 

Harry was suppressing a grin. The kid was really chatty but tolerable at least.

 

“I am a Seeker, but that position is probably filled by someone else,” he answered back.

_I couldn’t imagine playing for Slytherin, but it sounds as absurd as giving up Quidditch too…_

 

Alphard continued chatting to him eagerly, “I think you may get a chance this year. According to my brother, the Keeper and the Beater have graduated, and the current Seeker is considering switching positions. You should definitely go to the tryouts!”

 

“Si, Yi-Liang. Slytherin!”

 

Harry returned his glance to the Sorting. Merlin knew how many people he had missed while talking to Alphard. A pale Asian girl with long black hair gracefully rose from the stool. Her walking posture was straight and firm. Harry also noticed one odd thing. The girl’s torso did not move an inch even when she was walking. How did she do that? Now that he thought about it, Durmstrang students like Viktor gave him an impression that they were trained in a military school.

 

“May I sit next to you?”

 

Surprisingly, the girl had no foreign accent like Viktor did.

 

“Oh, go ahead,” Harry shuffled closer to Alphard and told him to do the same as well. He didn’t raise any question as to why the girl chose to sit next to him, when there were plenty of seats left on the other side of the table, because he was dying for something to eat.

* * *

“Wait, you mean you’re from _the_ Imperium of China?!” The young Black almost exclaimed, dropping his utensils and leaning leftward slightly just so his sister wouldn’t see his ‘appalling’ manners. Harry was eating his own share of food calmly while Alphard had been trying to talk with Yi-Liang with him being in the middle. Harry let it slide and offered to switch places with the young Black. He was gradually slipping into a state of peace until the first year’s piercing voice caused him to jump and he almost dropped his fork onto the ground.

 

“I wouldn’t know another country with the same name,” Yi-Liang answered nonchalantly and helped herself to the pumpkin juice while Harry was completely thrown off by Alphard’s reaction. Sitting across from Alphard, a blond male student was chuckling and looking at Yi-Liang with mild amusement. Duràndi, was he?

 

“Um, Alphard, what’s the fuss?” said Harry still a bit miffed about Alphard’s outburst.

 

Alphard’s eyes literally flashed brightly like Yule had come early, “What’s the fuss?! What’s the FUSS? The Imperium of China has been one of the longest standing magical communities in the world, largest one as well. Closed shut from the rest of the world, too. You don’t see wizards and witches from there so often. I heard people there keep dragons as pets!” Alphard explained with passion and several hand gestures. Well, the dragon part certainly sparked his curiosity as well. Leaving his dinner untouched, the eleven-year old seemed very fixated on hearing some interesting stories from the Asian witch, rather than getting chicken wings into his empty stomach.

 

“Do you have a baby dragon? I want to have one but it is illegal in Britain. There is a dragon habitat in Romania, and I’m planning on visiting that place this summer…”Alphard went on and on even though Yi-Liang kept her attention on her own half-filled plate, but Harry could spot a small curve at the right corner of her lips.

 

Finally, Yi-Liang finished her dinner and started talking, “Now, now, there is no need to be so loud; I can hear you just fine. Besides, you wouldn’t want your siblings to scold you later, would you.” Alphard promptly shut up at that. “Usually, only wealthy families can afford dragons. Because it’s exhausting and expensive to have an isolated piece of land and sufficient labour to contain these dragons, the more a family keeps, the more prestigious they appear.” Yi-Liang ended the conversation as she finished her last bite.

 

 “Wow,” Alphard replied in just one word, rendered speechless by the information given away. Harry could feel the bench move and squeak underneath them as the first year shook with excitement.

 

It was about the same time Dippet announced the end of the Feast, swiftly swinging his arms and the food vanished before their eyes.

 

“Since we are all well-fed now, I’d like to have the prefects lead their respective houses to their dormitories. I’ve said this before, but I have to emphasize this year again. Do not wander after curfew. You have a long day ahead of you. Professors won’t be lenient just because it’s the first day of school. Now, off you go,” Dippet sternly gave the last announcement. Judging from his drooping eyes, he would probably be the first person to go straight to the bed tonight.

 

All of the students got up from their benches and followed the prefects, each to their dormitory.

 

“Bye, Harry and Yi-Liang! Let’s hope my sister is not going to bore me to death with her lectures,” yelped Alphard who saw the flurry of Walburga’s black hair above the crowd, approaching him fast. Looking for a refuge, Alphard found one of his friends and hurriedly occupied himself to evade his sister’s clutches.

 

Duràndi with a playful smile had decided to join Yi-Liang’s side.

 

“I am surprized that you were zo patient with that little kid there, Yi-Liang. Normally you would just whisk out your wand and jinx people in your sight,” Duràndi cut in with a smirk and turned to Harry. “Grüß Gott (1)! I’m Aurèl Duràndi from Austria in case you don’t know. I’m de only heir to my filthy rich family; not that my father approves of my choice of lifestyle. If Yi-Liang here has said anything scandalous about me, half of it is probably true. Your eyes are really pretty. Harry Potter, isn’t it? Can I call you Harry, yes?” The cheerful boy offered his right hand and smirked as he saw Harry turned flustered by his compliment.

Yi-Liang rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t mind him, you’ll get used to it soon enough. Basically, he hits on everyone the second he meets them. Nothing out of ordinary; Aurèl has a natural talent for unnerving people.”

 

The energetic boy pouted, “I wonder if Harry will still think the same when he sees you casting curses on some poor, unfortunate souls.”

 

“You don’t say,” the unwavering girl replied. The tip of her wand was barely showing out of her sleeve, but her eyes promised more than just simple jinxes if Aurèl refused to stop his little tirade.

 

“I…see. Well, nice to meet you, Aurèl,” Harry gladly shook the offered hand as they walked down the stairs. Aurèl seemed like a fine guy; the only fault he could find in him so far was the Austrian’s suicidal tendencies to provoke a certain witch when unnecessary.

 

The Slytherin dormitory was located in the dungeons. It wasn’t exactly the first time Harry came down here, but the underground level gave him a chill down his spine.

 

 “The castle is really a magnificent piece of art, but can’t they install more torches down here? Iz really dark and I might trip over my own feet,” Aurèl complained and held onto Yi-Liang’s shoulder. The Durmstrang students were used to cold weather; some had even peeled off one or two layers of their clothes to enjoy the warmth.

 

After a few turns, they came to a stop in front of a regular stone wall. The Bloody Baron briefly glanced over the crowd and subtly nodded at Tom Riddle as some sort of acknowledgement before floating away.

 

_Interesting. I didn’t know Bloody Baron liked anyone well enough to bother with greetings. Well, I could be wrong._

 

“Caduceus,” the prefect stated the password with clarity. “Remember, the password will be updated every fortnight. Be sure to pay attention to the notice board. Do not let any outsider memorize the password or invite them in. Our dorm is the only place where we can truly relax, so please respect other’s privacy.”

 

“This common room iz eerie but beautiful in its way, isn’t it?”

 

The brown haired girl with a short stature straightened her back and spoke, “First, congratulations are in order. I’m Prefect Lucinda Paddocks, sixth year. I’m delighted to welcome all of you to the House of Slytherin. If you need help, anyone with prefect badges will be here to assist you. Girl’s dormitory is on the left; boy’s is on the right. Your name will show up on the door of your designated room. Due to the enrollment of a higher number of students this year, some of you may have to share a room with three other people. This is a great chance to network with your future peers. The quicker you adapt to the new environment, the better off you are. I wish you all a great year ahead.”

 

“Excellent, Ms. Paddocks!” an overweight old man announced, walking in jovially.

 

“I’m Professor Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin House. Please call me Professor or any equivalent respectable title. I hereby welcome all of you, including our guests from overseas, to the House of Slytherin. As some of you may know, we Slytherins have not been a popular lot since the establishment of Hogwarts,” Professor Slughorn’s smile faded. Many first years were puzzled by the sudden turn of his expression.

 

The speech was iterated again,

“They say we are evil but that’s not true. Cunning and ambitious: the two traits that our founder Salazar Slytherin values always. Many great wizards and witches possess these qualities as well. Some are sorted into our house, some aren’t. Nevertheless, some roguish ones step out of the boundaries, and people blame us for making them who they are.

Our time is difficult, especially now that a war is rising against those who have even a slight tint of Dark heritage. But have no fear. We must act united at front. Any dispute should be dealt with within the walls of the Common Room. I don’t want to hear from other professors about your misbehaviour.

Whatever you’re going to do, make sure you are discrete and subtle. I am sure all of you are resourceful lads and lasses, so I beseech you to help each other. I am available at my office any time you need help. Just knock and wait, and help shall be received. Well, don’t let me spoil your first day of school. Off you go now!”

 

Professor Slughorn went back his cheerful self and dismissed the whole student population. Some students opted for a good night’s sleep while others, like the new trio sat in the Common Room.

 

“So what is it like at Durmstrang?” asked Harry as soon as he settled on a leather sofa next to his eccentric friend.

 

Ensconced in a lounge chair, Yi-Liang said with all seriousness she could muster, “We are not supposed to tell outsiders about our school.”

 

“Aw, come on. It won’t hurt to tell ‘arry a bit about us! As long as we don’t tell him anything that might be re – motely related to the location of our school, no harm done! Harry, you know Durmstrang has a more ‘ _diverse_ ’ curriculum, ja?” Harry nodded. “Well, it is true that we do cover extensively on many… how should I put this?”

 

“Controversial subjects.”

 

“Thank you Yi-Liang. Yes, very controversial. The zing is that Durmstrang is doing this to prevent any dumb wizards to mess up badly, and we have a reputation to uphold. There are many fun subjects you can choose depending on your grades. We cover some basics of Necromancy and Evocation. The sixth year students are required to animate some small animals for their final. Ah, I wish I can return next year to take Evocation. My old friend Antonio told me that someone summoned a vengeful spirit last year and ended up in bed for one week. I think I can summon a sex demon. I mean why not mix pleasure with work? “Aurèl laughed while Harry paled at his casual mention of vicious supernatural beings.

 

“Don’t look so green, Harry. Said vengeful spirit didn’t do much harm. Besides, those courses Aurèl mentioned are introductory electives for only sixth year and up. The teachers won’t let you do much unless you get the hang of it, although I would prefer Magical Martial Arts or Earth Magic. The first focuses on the physical aspect of magic: wielding magical weapons or infusing your body with aura. In my opinion, it makes punching people much easier. That is, making the impact more painful and permanent than usual. Earth Magic gives me an edge in drawing Ambient Magic to replenish my core and perform certain rituals. Also it involves less unstable or sex-craving spirits coming out to get me, that’s for sure,” Yi-Liang clarified and kicked Aurèl’s shin for extra warning.

 

“Eek! What’s dat for?!”

 

“You scared him, that’s what.”

 

“It’s alright. I just got carried away. I doubt anything at this point can permanently traumatize me,” Harry assured Yi-Liang. _A sad, true fact when a Dark Lord is still hunting you in the future._

 

While massaging the sore spot on his leg, Aurèl continued talking, “I would also like to take Wards Creation. My great-grandaunt is a Ward Crafter. I have developed a liking to wards because of her. Each tiny rune connects with the other and glows like jewels. The process iz like building a spider web, but more refined. Wards guard ancient treasure in many old magical sites, such as Egyptian pyramids. There is also a co-requisite for Spell Breaking, which is mandatory for countering wards. However, I’m not particularly good at destroying wards.”

 

The Austrian ducked his head in embarrassment. However, Harry was very enthusiastic about these subjects he had never heard of. He couldn’t recall any electives being available from his time that were half as stimulating as those offered at Durmstrang.

 

“That’s bloody awesome! I didn’t know you have so many fun subjects. My best mate’s brother Bill is a Curse Breaker. He said that breaking a ward is pretty hard, let alone making one. You must be really smart like my friend Hermione.”

 

“Ha-ha, I wish my father thinks the way you do. He does not like my career choice becuz he wants me to inherit the family business. Too academic, he says,” the blond-haired boy paused to contemplate on his family. Few seconds later, Yi-Liang interrupted his musing, “Aurèl Duràndi done talking? I’m shocked.”

 

Aurèl immediately returned to reality. With a mock-worshipping gesture, he said, “My, my. Feeling ignored, my dear Yi-Liang. My apologies, I shall shower you with praises like I always do. Harry, allow me to introduce – the Dueling Champion of Durmstrang.”

 

Puzzled by Aurèl and awed by Yi-Liang, Harry turned to her for explanation.

 

“Durmstrang holds an annual Duelling Contest after the final exams. As long as no permanent damage done, you can perform any magic in a duel. There is no restriction on the qualification of participants but anyone below fifth year must acquire a recommendation from the Headmaster or a professor, for formality’s sake. All the contestants are mixed up together in each round because the school believes competence has nothing to do with age, so long as you put on a good show. Pureblood families come over to watch and place bets on the potential winners. The winner’s family will get to boast about their children for the whole summer. However, if you ask me, failures and embarrassing deeds are more likely to be remembered forever in certain social circles.”

 

Yi-Liang chuckled as she reminisced her glorious moments. Affected by her amusement, Aurèl snickered and gave his two knots to the story,

 

“Yi-Liang was one of the two students below fifth year to participate. People underestimated her because she was a foreigner, but they were _so, so_ wrong. Every curse they cast, she easily dodged; every shield they conjured, she tore it apart. Oh, you should see her dance around those clumsy dolts, Harry. Graceful! She has been practicing martial arts since she waz a kid; it is a wonder to behold. Yi-Liang’s vater (2) came to watch the spectacle too. It’s funny to see him being overprotective. Although she was the one sending people to krankenstation (3), he looked like he was going to faint any moment. Ouch, no need to point your wand at me.”

 

Yi-Liang didn’t fully draw her wand but she did give Aurèl a withering glare. Apparently, she was annoyed by the reminder of her overprotective father.

 

“My father was one of few who place bets on me, other than our friends. I told him he should put bets against me, so I can get more out of this game. His support means a lot to me, but the money…” Yi-Liang gritted her teeth and clenched her fist.

 

Aurèl quietly spoke to Harry, “She is still sore about the proceeds from the championship. Later, we found out that thirty percent of the proceeds go to school budget, so any champion may not receive much if the odds were not high. It’s a good thing not many people placed their faith in her, otherwise she’d have got less.”

 

The duelling champion paused her thinking and cast a tempus, which indicated 10:23 pm.

 

“Oh, look at the time now! Let’s go, Harry. I want to see what our room looks like! See you tomorrow, Yi-Liang!” said Aurèl, standing up to give Yi-Liang _a look_. The female duelist didn’t say anything, but she gave a small nod and let her wayward friend drag Harry away to the boy’s dormitory.

* * *

The corridor was a dark, winding maze like the rest of the dungeons; Harry was starting to miss the homey atmosphere of Gryffindor Tower. At least the fireplace and lamps were not burning with an eccentric type of green colour. They checked the first room for fifth year and found neither of them on the list. After two more rooms, Aurèl was very displeased by his placement.

 

“Jacenty Nosek and Ioannis Stavros are both from Durmstrang like me, but I never really talk to them. They don’t appreciate my sense of humour, you see. I wonder who this Avery is. Let’s hope he can make a better conversation than those two. Alas, too bad I’m not in the same room wiz you, Har. We could have had a splendid pillow fight against those arrogant bastards,” said Aurèl, scrunching his nose at the offending parchment on the door.

 

Harry responded with a light chortle, “You wish.”

 

“One can always hope, my friend.” The playful Austrian entered into the room but not without saying, “Good night, Harry. If you want a pillow fight, you know where to find me.”

 

And the door was shut.

 

Harry became very fond of his new friends. They were exact opposites in terms of personality, but both were humorous and brilliant in their own way. Making two friends in a pit of snakes definitely made a good start. Perhaps things were heading in a good direction.

  

As Harry arrived in front of his future room, he glanced over the names on the board.

_ Abraxas Malfoy _

_ Tyrell Nott _

_ Harry Potter _

_ Tom Riddle _

 

“Just my damn luck…” he scoffed to himself, letting his shoulders drop in resignation.

 

As Harry turned the door knob of his shared room, a platter of assorted Slytherin colours assaulted his vision. The curtains of the poster beds were made of heavy and expensive material. Silver embroidery was sewn into the green curtains. The stone walls were adorned with portraits of serpent themes. The room made him shiver as the Giant Squid swam by outside the underwater windows, temporarily casting its shadow into the room. Three other occupants were already in their night robes.

 

Walking to a halt, the permanent fixation of his nightmare came to greet him with a polite smile, “Potter, right? What a shame I didn’t get a chance to talk to you during the Feast. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the Prefect for fifth year – Tom Riddle.”

 

 

(1)  Hello in Austrian German

(2)  Father in German

(3)  Infirmary in German

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not be able to update more frequently once the school and recruitment begin. In fact, it may be impossible to post any chapter at all until Holidays. However, I would like to thank you, readers, for your silent support and kind messages. Good day/night, readers, good day/night. 
> 
> (Guess who's been listening to Welcome to Night Vale? Gotta love Cecil and his immaculately sexy voice and great announcements, if not downright creepy. All hail the glow cloud.)


	5. Worst Roommates Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I posted, and I am sorry for that. I dealt with my plot bunnies because they helped me get over writer block. Thanks to them, I was able to get back on track. You have the patience of saint. I appreciate all your supportive comments over my one-year hiatus. I am writing up the next chapter while dealing with school. 
> 
> Beta- YumeNoTsuzuki

_Slowing_ _to a halt, the permanent fixation of his nightmares came to greet him with a polite smile, “Potter, right? What a shame I didn’t get a chance to talk to you during the Feast. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the Prefect for fifth year – Tom Riddle.”_

 

* * *

 

Harry greeted back, “Um, hello, Riddle.” He wore a grimace that was supposed to be an equally polite smile, but a bit less pretentious than Riddle’s. He should have rehearsed this before he entered the room. His facial muscles simply refused to make a friendly expression in front of his younger enemy. Riddle did not seem to mind his lack of enthusiasm on the surface, but one could not be certain of that.

 

The other two occupants (of what) finally turned around to make proper greetings as Riddle took the initiative to acknowledge him. Malfoy’s grandfather was wearing velvety pajamas in pale blue. His hair was neatly braided.

 

The Prefect continued, “The one standing to your right will be Nott –“

 

“And the blond, vain idiot is Malfoy,” Nott leered when Malfoy huffed at the blatant insult.

 

Keeping his face neutral and content, Riddle asked Nott in a tone laced with authority, “What did I say about interrupting me, Nott?”

 

The tall Slytherin meekly replied, “My L– apologies, Riddle.”

 

Riddle was not happy with Nott’s mishap but he decided to let it pass for now. Nonetheless, Nott’s word did not go amiss by Harry.

 

_So his little empire was already established by now. I suppose it was to be expected._

 

On the other hand, the blond boy could not stand the blatant insult thrown at him although Harry inwardly agreed with Nott: All Malfoys were born to be beauty-obsessed.

 

“I must disagree, Nott. I may be vain but I am not an ‘idiot’ as you so rudely put it. For instance, I do remember that Girding Potion you brewed last year had a rather beautiful fuchsia shade. That shade will look absolutely great on a witch’s robe, but I’m afraid no one will drink that potion when it’s supposed to golden. Now who is the idiot?”

 

Nott snorted, “Whatever, it is your time-consuming morning routine that makes us come to class late on our first day.”

 

The blond pureblood replied in indignant huff, “That was first year, and may I remind you that we were actually on time since your memory failed to remember that!”

 

The two pureblood heirs kept arguing back and forth, and Harry was seriously tired  of listening to them. While the argument was still in session, Riddle was called outside to assist the first-year Slytherins. Seeing as his three roommates were not pestering him, Harry sauntered to his bedpost. He bent his knees, opened the clasps of his trunk, and put on his simple black night robe, which fit snugly against his growing body.

 

The quiet teen missed his Gryffindor room. Gone were Dean and Seamus’ raucous brawling and silly banter. No more of Ron’s cheerful encouragement of procrastination. Hell, he missed Neville too even though the chubby boy had always stayed in the background and only occasionally talked when being addressed to.

 

It was up to him to battle wits with the other snakes and somehow learn of Voldemort’s secret without getting killed first. Joy.

 

“Hey, Potter! How did you make it to Slytherin? Aren’t you lot supposed to come from a Light family, surrounded by muggle lovers and mudbloods?” Nottsneered at the new comer. Malfoy sported an equally sinister smug look but let his friend do the talking.

 

 _Arseholes_ , thought Harry. The Slytherins finally showed their true colours. However, he was not backing down either. Just because he was sorted to a different house, he was not going to change his beliefs so Riddle and his Death Eaters would welcome him in open arms.

 

The ex-Gryffindor directed a sour look at his classmates, “How about I end this petty charade in one go, Nott? What if I happen to sympathize with muggles?!”

 

Gobsmacked, Nott and Malfoy lost their composure to his un-Slytherin and straightforward answer. In retrospect, Harry would probably regret it, but he could not give a damn about blood statuses. As the saying goes, in for a knut, in for a galleon.

 

“On top of that, how about shut your face so I don’t have to listen to your hate speech?” the lion delivered the final blow.

 

“How dare you?!” said Nott, wand ready. “What do you say, Abraxas? Let’s teach Potter a lesson of respecting his better – “

 

And then the busy prefect returned, dissatisfied. Riddle’s flat tone stopped Nott from cursing, “Cease the argument, both of you. It’s only the first day, and you’re already fighting like children. Nott, I do expect better of _you_ , seeing as you’re the heir to a pristine pureblood family,” The handsome boy closed the door behind him and crossed his arms.

 

The unimpressed Slytherin narrowed his eyes at his two followers. Both purebloods took a step back and shut their mouths, although Nott still had not released his wand. Displeased by Nott’s disobedience, Riddle sent a withering glare at him. Despite his anger at Harry’s comment, Nott relented out of his respect and fear for their leader.

 

Riddle approved the reaction and nodded. He walked past Malfoy and approached Harry, but the mature boy stopped at the pillars of Harry’s bed post.

The smirking snake said, “Now, isn’t it this nice? A proper Slytherin should remain civilized at all times, especially Potter.” He turned to Nott and Malfoy. “He is new here. It is our responsibility to teach him not to consort with those fumbling buffoons called Gryffindors.”

 

The two arrogant boys snickered at their Lord’s joke. Riddle could have just left Harry alone when he prevented a potential curse throwing contest. Yet, the little Dark Lord just had to make this personal.

 

So Harry outright challenged Riddle, “And what’s wrong with Gryffidors?”

 

Not concerned with Harry’s defiance, the other boy gave him a seemingly irrelevant question, “How much do you know about lions, Potter? Specifically, the male lions?”

 

Miffed, the only Gryffindor in the room sat on his bed and attempted to pretend he did not care. However, in truth, he could not say he knew much about the symbol of his house back in his time.

 

Riddle chuckled at his lack of response. Thus, the Slytherin heir continued, “A majority of a lion group is female. Only one male lion exists. The lionesses hunt and nurse the lion cubs, enforcing the order of the clan. And you know what the actual lion does all day? Sleep, eat, and sleep. They fight when there is another male challenging their authority, and they go back to their lazy routine. Pathetic.”

 

From behind a smiling Riddle, Malfoy and Nott guffawed. This particular bunch of teenagers were wrapped up in their blood supremacy at this early stage of life.

 

A dull ache pounded on the only Gryffindor’s temples and he gritted his teeth, “Contrary to your point, Gryffindors can act out of bravery and kindness to the point of sacrificing themselves.”

 

Tom nonchalantly retorted, “And the surviving one will always be a Slytherin.” The lackeys gagged at the corny defense for the lions.

 

 “You don’t believe in selfless nobleness, do you, Riddle? Must be a splendid life you’re living.”

 

Ignoring the childish jab, Riddle calmly responded the courtesy in kind.

 

“No one is born altruistic, Harry. Nor are they now, nor will they ever be. Not even you. When people see misfortune in others, or themselves, they may feel pity and yearn to rectify the injustice, if only to clear away that awful feeling in their chest. You see, they are all very selfish. Oh, don’t look at me like that, _dear_. Perhaps I shouldn’t say all humans are selfish. There is always an exception. Personally, I believe a true selfless person should feel no remorse, shame, guilt, sympathy, or any likes of emotions you seem so fond of. You see, you have to be indifferent to the suffering of others in order to carry out goodwill you so preciously value.”

 

Harry gaped at the audacity of Tom’s arrogance. He had expected some degree of cruelty from the future dark lord; after all he had confronted the young Voldemort’s memory in the Chamber of Secrets three years ago. Before he could interrupt Tom’s gallant speech, Tom cut him off.

 

“Those kinds of people wouldn’t feel obligated to help others. They may even take advantage of their weakest moments and use them – “

 

Clenching his hands, the Boy-Who-Lived yelled, “No, you are wrong! People are kind and brave in nature. Hate is learned and can be unlearned. They are capable of love to the extent that they are willing to sacrifice themselves, so others can live…!”

_Like my parents._

“– driven by self-pity and guilt to make their miserable lives a bit more worthy. Guilty because they are too weak to have a will to live,” said Riddle. Hollow eyes seemed to stare into Harry’s face but not quite aiming at him.

 

Harry exploded, “That is not true!”

 

Riddle snorted, “Speaking from personal experience, Potter? No wonder you are becoming so defensive.”

 

“I’m not getting defensive!”

 

“Whatever you say, but the blood on your hand betrays you.”

 

Harry unclasped his hands, and he did fing shallow, crescent shaped cuts from his uncut fingernails. Remaining still, his heart was racing, but his lips were not moving anymore.

 

“Either rule or be ruled. When you don’t have the will to wield power, you become the worker to realize other’s ambition. There is no good and evil –,”

 

 “- there is only power, and those too weak to seek it,” cut in the fatigued Saviour.

 

Riddle gave a patronizing compliment, “Very good. It seems you’re catching the drift. You are _absolutely_ on your way to greatness.” Nott and Malfoy smirked at their friend as if a private joke was traded amongst them.

 

 

Continuing his jabbing, Riddle advised, “You are confused. Excellent, doubt is the first step of critical thinking. There’s always room for intelligent growth. Don’t you agree?”

 

His malice was rewarded with silence.

 

“Do not mark me a tyrant, Potter. I let people think and formulate their opinion on their own. I will not force you to change your own philosophy; it won’t be beneficial to you in the long run. In fact, perhaps you have not realized, you’re already doing the work yourself.”

 

 _Soon you will bow to me_ went unsaid when Tom returned to his routine and readied himself for his first patrol duty. Malfoy and Nott had gone to bed and closed the curtains of their respective beds, so Harry grabbed his towel and went straight for a shower. He shut off the door forcefully, hoping the loud noise would disturb his roommates’ sleep.

 

Tossing his clothes at the hard marble countertop, he quickly got into the shower stall. The snake-headed shower heads released the chilling water, but it felt like nothing against Harry’s body. He was outraged and emotionally exhausted.

 

Some portion of the blood in his palms had clotted in his hands. However, most of the fresh blood was diluted as it merged with water, and it slithered into the drain hole. Dark mood sprung from his chaotic mind, and Harry wondered if the basilisk in the pipelines would smell his blood, assuming it had already been awoken from its millennial slumber.

Slowly, people succumbed to exhaustion and trickled to their designated rooms. Only Yi-Liang sat alone in the lounge. Loosening her hair down, long jet black hair draped over the back of her seat. The peculiar girl rested her head against the crest rail, idly staring into the moonless lake above. The night was late, but a restless mind like hers could not fall asleep after the great revelation of tonight.

 

A morbid thought came to her, but Yi-Liang aggressively dismissed it as bad memories were unearthed. With her left hand digging into the soft fabric of the sofa, her right hand covered her eyes even though no one was there to witness her moment of weakness. She shut her eyes to keep tears from leaking out and reopened them again. Her hands were still shivering, but duty came first. Swiftly, she dug into the inner pocket of her new robe, taking out an ancient scroll. She carefully put the scroll on her lap and untied the string.

 

As the scroll was laid flat, delicate writing faded in and beckoned Yi-Liang to continue the passage. Looking at a few pages before, she could see how her handwriting had progressed from childlike scrawling to elegant curves. While she was glad of her overall improvement, Yi-Liang felt bitter towards the thrice cursed scroll that put a leash on her life. Yet, her fingers could not help but gently caress the paper with reverence and fear. As she reached the last page, she stopped her motion as the name Harry Potter appeared.

* * *

 

“Wake up, ‘Arry! You vill miss the first class if you don’t wake up soon!” Aurèl shook him up frantically. The dorm room was marginally brighter than last night. Nevertheless, the atmosphere could have been mistaken for a time barely after midnight.

 

Still not fully woken up, Harry mumbled, “Huh? What time is it?” Half of his head was buried in the fluffy pillows, and his glasses were skewed in a weird angle since he didn’t take them off last night.

 

“Did you not hear me?! YOU VILL BE LATE!”

 

Adjusting his glasses, Harry rose from the bed, massaging his temples, “Merlin’s beard, I hear you alright, just let me grab my clothes! By the way, how did you manage to break the alarm spell I cast on the curtains?” He clumsily searched for his glasses on the bedside table before realising they were still on his face and forced himself to open his drooping eyes.

 

Aurèl tilted his head and looked around Harry’s bed, “Alarm charm? I didn’t detect any of that. Besides, my Curse Breaking skills may be _slightly_ under par, Har, but whatever kiddy spell you cast must be very easy to break if your roommates did it ahead of me. I am more than happy to teach you the delicate art of ward casting later, however time is of ezzence. Now hurry, here is some pumpkin juice and two pieces of but-tered toasts.”

 

“Thanks mate,” Harry thanked Aurèl and took over his beautiful breakfast.

 

“No big deal. Oh I got to tell you this! There has been a white owl causing havoc in the Great Hall. I swear, that thing has a pair of sharp yellow eyes that promise pain and suffering as it swept down on the Gryffindor table. When the bird landed in the middle of the table, it splashed the pumpkin juice on a couple Gryffindor students. Unfortunate souls, they are. I wouldn’t want to be in that bird’s way. For all I know, it seemed very set on murdering someone. Oh let me help you with your things!” His energetic friend made a poorly imitated pose that poorly resembled the way a bird should fly.

 

Aurèl headed towards Harry’s trunk after he carefully swished his wand to create a protective barrier around it. Harry was stunned by the news. Could it be Hedwig? Had she come all the way from the other world to here? Was it even possible? If anything Aurèl said was true, he’d better owl order some treats later.

 

Finishing his hasty bites, the late riser thanked his friend for his thoughtfulness. His first day of Hogwarts back in his period had so far comprised of waking up late and doing everything in a rush without breakfast. Luckily, he got a considerate friend this time.

 

“Your roommates are really mean to leave you sleeping here. Did you somehow piss them off last night?” the Austrian boy casually brought up the subject while he was sorting out textbooks and stationary from the messy trunk.

 

Harry lazily answered back, “I think me challenging them last night has landed me in this situation.”

 

Paused in the middle of helping Harry pack his school bag, Aurèl gave him a sympathizing look and carried on, “Ah, no wonder. At dis rate, I am afraid somezing bad would happen to you. Maybe you should change the room with Avery, my other roommate, if you do not feel comfortable with them. He is not a bad guy, to be honest. He said his friends are in the same room with you. It’s merely a suggestion, but he is more than willing to trade with you.”

 

Reconsidering his confrontation last night, Harry did not enjoy his roommates’ mean words and attitude. However, a surrender never existed in his mind.

 

“…I can deal with them.”

 

“Whatever you say, mein freund (my friend). Oh, I took the liberty to look at your schedule. We have all the classes together exzept for Care for Magical Creatures and Divination. Yi is in Divination too though I don’t understand why she is taking it.” Aurèl handed him his schedule as Harry sipped the pumpkin juice.

 

“How did you realize I’m still in the dorm?”

 

“Let’s just say the circumstances are painfully familiar. But other than that, Yi woke up really early this morning. Since she did not see you at the Great Hall, I thought I would fetch some breakfast for you in case you haven’t come downstairs. I sought you out before I left for breakfast, you know. I tried knocking on da door, but a blond guy in your room said you were already up. He was very persistent about it, and he wouldn’t even let me in. I should have realized he was lying.”

 

It was perplexing to Harry. He had been sleeping in the castle for days now, and he always woke fairly early as well no-thanks to his nightmares. There was no way he would sleep in on the first day of school. This led him to the conclusion that Malfoy had cast a moderately powerful sleeping charm on him this morning; Nott probably stood by and watched in silence. As for Voldemort, well that was a given. The prefect had no incentive to prevent a silly prank, and the annoying brat knew someone would have come for him. This also explained the absence of his alarm charm. One of the Slytherins must have disarmed it before Malfoy took the opportunity to jinx him.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Good to go.”

 

“Good. We’d better run! When I was rushing down to get you, Sluggy, our Head of House warned me not to be late for the first class.”

 

“In that case, I will race you!”

 

“Hey, that iz not fair! Oh, you’re not supposed to run after gulfing down your food so fast!”

 

The Moving Staircase was pleasantly compliant this morning although their time was limited. For each level they ascended, no time was lost on waiting. When the two boys reached third floor, they ran in the opposite direction. Once Harry realized they were on the wrong side of the castle, both quickly turned back and started a mad dash again.

 

Miraculously, they arrived in the Defence Against Dark Arts classroom one second before the clock struck at 8:30. Aurèl and Harry sat in the last row on Slytherin’s side; both were panting for breath and their hearts were still beating fast. The Gryffindors did not pay attention to them as they amicably chatted amongst themselves. A couple of subtle _tsks_ could be heard on the other side only if one listened carefully.

 

Once they settled down, Aurèl sighed in relief and promptly began taking out his parchment and writing set. Harry surveyed the entire classroom. Riddle and his minions were in the front rows. It came as no surprise since Riddle was probably a studious student and the rest followed suit. Riddle did not have any intention to interact with others at this time; he had organized his belongings in a neatly fashion and waited for the professor to come in. Two rows before them, Yi-Liang was sitting straight in her seat, her eyes on the textbook completely ignoring her surroundings.

 

He set the textbook on the wooden desk as Professor came in.

 

“Ah, I hope all of you didn’t wait too long!”

 

A regular looking trunk levitated to the side of the Professor’s desk and captured the attention of the whole class. With a neutral expression, the elder witch strode towards the blackboard and turned to face her pupils.

 

“For those who do not know me, I am Professor Merrythought. If you were late to class, the door would have been spelled shut until I permit you to enter. Tardiness is absolutely out of question in my class. However, I realize some new students had trouble finding the classroom, so I will only let it slide this time. ONE. TIME.”

 

The professor did not call out Harry and his friend, but her eyes definitely swept across the room to see two empty seats on the Slytherin’s rows of tables. Harry swore he would be more careful from now on. Professor Merrythought had a pair of sharp eyes and a strict spirit that Professor McGonagall possessed as well.

 

“Put away your textbooks and quills, students. Today, we shall start with practical duels. There are new faces coming this year, so I’d like to take this opportunity to assess your skills. As for the rest of you, I hope you’re not losing your touch over the summer.”

 

That being said, Gryffindors were fired up and excited at the prospect of a chance to trump the snakes; the elated Slytherins couldn’t wait to curse the lions.

 

The professor hushedthem, then ordered the students to stand on opposite sides of classroom. Their desks and belongings were levitated to the back of the room. Hauling the mysterious trunk into the centre, Professor Merrythought gave two taps on the top with her wand. Suddenly, the trunk violently shook and produced a string of duelling puppets.

 

“What are you standing around for? Pair up with someone next to you and each pair of you should share the same target for the rest of the class.”

 

“You first?” Harry asked his friend.

 

“The pleasure is mine.” Aurèl brandished his wand and they began their dueling.

 

Harry kept taking short glances at Riddle when the other boy was not looking. His fighting stance was languid but firm.

 

Then before he could turn away, Riddle caught him staring and smiled coldly back. Harry abruptly looked away and watched Aurèl displaying a myriad of spells he had never heard of. In a distance, Riddle ordered Nott to stay with their peers and approached the professor.

 

“Professor Merrythought. I have finished the exercise you assigned. Should I walk around and help other students as well?”

 

“Oh, Mr. Riddle. Thank you so much for your enthusiasm. Five points to Slytherin. Please, help yourself. This year, we’ve got more than a handful of our regulars.”

 

Tom Riddle turned around and made a beeline to Harry and Aurèl’s spot.

 

Unaware of Riddle’s new movement, Harry and Aurèl were happily focusing on their mock duel.

 

“Try to do your bezt, Har. I think we’re all too good to stick to the course outline. It is getting voring, don’t you think?”

 

“I don’t know, Aurèl. You tripped on my Jelly-legs jinx. Maybe we should help you review the basics before we actually move on to the more advanced level?” Harry wiggled his eyebrows while holding his laughter.

 

Aurèl jokingly feigned shock, “Oh, don’t you dar-re! I was only… testing you! Now that I know your level, prepare to be crushed. _Coruscum Minutus_ (Mild lightening hex) _-_ ”

 

Despite the wealth of knowledge in magic Aurèl possessed, he was ultimately not a true duelist. A scholar through and through. Harry noticed he liked to use obscure hexes read somewhere from an old tome when he could have settled for a simpler spell to save the time. Not to say that Harry himself was having an easy time. Aurèl was not bluffing about his skills. The transition between each spell was impeccable and fast. Not to mention that Harry did not know the effects of those spells though he doubted his friend would do any harm to his person.

 

On the other hand, Harry’s own strategy had consisted of: ducking, disarming, ducking, and disarming again. Uncreative, but effective nonetheless. When Aurèl showed an opening, he would throw in some jinxes learned from Hermione, but that was it.

 

“Level up, Har. I ‘been showing you my own repertoire of offensive spells. All this crouching and jumping will run you out eventually.”

 

Suddenly, a glowing jet of orange light crossed between Harry and Aurèl and stopped them in their tracks. Almost bumping into a Slytherin girl next to him, Aurèl swiftly found his balance and glared at the origin of the hex.

 

“Scheiße! (Shit!) What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“You’re right, Duràndi. Harry here does need to vary his strategy, but clearly you’re approaching the problem from the wrong angle. I can help with that.”

 

Flabbergasted by Riddle’s insult, Aurèl weakly protested to avoid further trouble with the prefect, “But - “

 

Riddle quickly interrupted Aurèl, “I have been watching you two duel with each other. Your expansive knowledge of spells is impressive, but it may be too much for a beginner like Harry.” Despite the neutral words, Aurèl knew he only had the choice to let go.

 

Giving Harry a concerned sideway glance, Aurèl felt conflicted to step aside just so the star student could chew his new friend inside out. Thinned lips tightened, and his faithful survival instinct told him it was not worth it, getting riled up in a classroom. A private execution was better than a public one; in case the arrogant Slytherin was indeed as powerful as his roommate Avery mentioned. With that in mind, apologetic eyes were directed at Harry with silent submission. Not that Harry blamed Aurèl for withdrawing from the spot, he too was curious and surprised by Voldemort’s blatant intervention.

 

Accepting nothing but obedience even from the new student, the Slytherin heir set out to prepare a duel with Harry. Riddle softly spoke, “Now let’s start with something simple. Watch my hand carefully, Harry. Don’t forget to dodge, though. That would defeat the purpose of this exercise.”

 

Riddle’s patronizing attitude was getting under the time traveller’s skin.

 

 “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”

 

Shots of unknown hexes and disarming charms were fired. Harry ducked away from the attacks while the other Slytherin evaded the spells as if he was dancing to an inaudible tune. What separated Riddle from Aurèl was personality. The Durmstrang boy preferred to maximize the attack range since the petite boy was not a good fighter in close quarters. A spell might fan out to cause ill effect on the opponent once captured. It could be tricky to block or counter from this type of offense. However, there was always a window of opportunity, albeit little, to assess one’s vantage point so he could spring to a clean zone with minimal effort. Overall, it was a conventional method to keep your enemy at bay.

 

Opposite to Aurèl, the cold-hearted model student had a clean-cut aim for his blind spots. Riddle liked to get close to his prey to make sure they would not be able to escape from him. For a brief moment, Harry could sense Riddle’s sadistic amusement when he became disoriented from one of the spells because his scar was still active in this different era somehow.

 

While Harry was analyzing his new partner’s strategy, a circle of mesmerized spectators– mostly from Hogwarts – started to surround them and watch the duel. From their look of awe, no one else lasted long when dueling with Riddle. Even the teacher abandoned her post and joined the crowd. Riddle was reveling in the attention and appeared delightfully amused by Harry’s resilient will to resume their fight over and over.

 

Refusing to drag the fight out, Harry voluntarily rushed towards Riddle and murmured his favourite spell, “ _Expelliarmus_!”

 

“Statim inutilemque (instantly immobilized)!”

 

Two wands flared up to deliver the last draw, and both sides of equal power came to form a singular string of magic. In the middle, there was a snitch-sized orb that released golden sparks, and neither one could break the connection off. The taunting memory of the graveyard returned, only this time no one erupted from the dark wand to help Harry. A clear indication that the Slytherin heir had yet to commit any murder.

 

Riddle’s eyes enlarged, shocked by the standoff. It was a magical phenomenon that he had never witnessed before. However, the perfectionist added more raw power into his yew wand; he was not going to lose to a simple disarming charm.

 

Harry of course did the same thing as well. As the connection absorbed more energy, the golden orb grew bigger and brighter. When the size of the orb was as twice as great as a quaffle, the round sphere exploded and floored the two Slytherins.

 

_BOOM!_

 

Harry landed six metres away from his original spot and by the feet of Aurèl. Yi-Liang ran over to keep the crowd from approaching Harry, whereas the panicked wizard knelt down to cast a diagnosing spell, which came out with the result of a mild concussion. The Gryffindor blinked and rubbed a sore spot behind his head. Professor Merrythought only just realized what happened and checked up on Riddle who, amazingly, managed to partially block the impact without any injury. Yet, the instructor insisted the two of them be accompanied to the Infirmary.

 

The class was about to end in five minutes or so. The raven-haired teen glanced at Riddle, and the blazing fury in those grey eyes made Harry grab his bag and rush out of the classroom with his two friends hurriedly chasing after him.

 

One impassive face watched as his new target of interest disappeared and clumsily forgot his wand. He picked it up from the location of explosion and tucked the wooden piece into his robe pocket. He had a lot of questions to ask Potter, and he would not have the choice to avoid him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the spells in faux Latin are a result from Google Translate. The accuracy is guaranteed to be none :P
> 
> Any good advice for writing smut?


	6. Up To No Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by YumeTsuzuki, who graciously proofread the chapter even during NaNoWriMo. I wish you good luck!
> 
> I am participating in NaNo too, under the same handle as AO3. Before November, I cut off a good chunk of this chapter to move it into the CH 7, so this is why you see less words in this chapter right now. Hopefully, I will be finished with exams and NaNo next time I update. Until then, Happy November!

_One impassive face watched as his new target of interest disappeared and clumsily forgot his wand. He picked it up from the location of explosion and tucked the wooden piece into his robe pocket. He had a lot of questions to ask Potter, and he would not have the choice to avoid him._

* * *

 

Harry’s heart was racing loudly, as if it was trying to get out of his tight rib cage. He was now lying on a stiff white bed of the Infirmary, bored and exhausted. What really bothered him though was the lack of his wand.

 

_Can’t believe I forgot my wand there! How am I supposed to fend off enemies if Grindelwald’s army invades Hogwarts? Or worse, if I have to face off with baby snake-face?_

 

Harry’s thoughts were grim. Okay, perhaps he should have checked his belongings before dashing for the exit in fear of Riddle’s reaction, but he could not help it. Although teenage Voldemort lacked the magnitude of cruelty he had witnessed at the Tournament, he couldn’t not contemplate what the Dark wizard would do to him. Grasping nothing but thin air in his wand hand, Harry hated being so helpless and weak. Being cooped up in a scary white room did not soothe him.

 

On top of all that, his mild concussion had worsened when he chased to the Infirmary in fear of Riddle’s retribution. How pathetic could he be? No matter how angry Riddle was, it should be nothing compared to his torture at the hands of the mad Dark Lord back in his time. After all, the younger Voldemort appeared to have more control of his temper.

 

As a result of Harry’s thoughtlessness, he got an intense scolding from Aurèl for his recklessness. Yi-Liang arched her smooth eyebrow at him as a way of saying, “Serves you right.” As for the nurse, to say that she was displeased to have a patient so soon on the first day of school was an understatement. The young matron exclaimed in motherly concern when he almost fainted from exhaustion of his magical core and forced Harry to stay at the Infirmary for a few days. According to the medi-witch, the unusual magical phenomenon could have delayed effects on his well-being. Of course Harry knew he would be well from his previous experience, but he did not want to tell Ms. Pomfrey more than necessary, in fear of revealing the future.

 

His only comfort was hoping that his friends would retrieve his wand from Professor Merrythought’s office. The Gryffindor’s growing paranoia was grating on his nerves without his faithful holly wand. However, he was despaired to learn that his wand had not been found in the classroom. In other words, someone else took it and Harry was not sure if he could get his wand back at all.

 

Protected by Ms. Pomfrey (Madam Pomfrey’s relative perhaps) in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the four days, Harry was at least spared from the vicious gossip mill of his duel with Riddle and the snake’s presence. However, being the only person in a dark, empty room sucked balls. Other than the occasional visits from his two friends and doing the assigned homework _partially_ , Harry was bored out of his mind.

 

Looking at the clock on the bedside table, it was one hour past curfew, but Harry was restless and unable to sleep.

 

He sighed, “I guess I should just finish the stupid essay.”

 

Suddenly, a velvety voice from the door spoke, “I suppose I came at the right time, then. If you see your academic responsibility as the last means to combat boredom.”

 

Harry flinched from hearing the second voice in the room; his back straightened and his shoulders tensed. The wooden door clicked as the intruder magically closed it, adding a layer of a privacy charm.

 

“It’s past curfew, what are you doing here?”

 

“Well, Potter. Surely your damaged brain retains the knowledge of Prefects’ duties? They are supposed to patrol at night,” the Prefect dryly replied, void of malice. His black silhouette was projected on the wall, then the bright moonlight revealed a smiling Tom Riddle.

 

Groaning, the Potter scion was out of luck today. The soft pillow was no longer adequate to support his weighing headache.

 

_This is it. I am going to get interrogated. Maybe if I am lucky he’ll only Crucio me for five seconds._

 

Ignoring Harry’s obvious distrust, Riddle came closer and made eye contact with Harry.

 

“Relax,” the Slytherin assured him, “I come with an offering.”

 

The pale, slender fingers fished out an elongated object out of his robe pocket. Harry’s left hand blindly searched for his glasses and put them on. Disregarding his previous worries, Harry walked up to Riddle barefoot to see if the object was indeed his…

 

The wandless boy exclaimed, “My wand!” His hand reached for his holly wand that sang to him with joyous exhilaration.

 

However, the sneaky Slytherin put the wand away, and Harry was outraged.

 

“Give it back to me!”

 

“I will give back what is rightfully yours, but you have some explaining to do first, Potter.”

 

Harry tilted his head to the side, feigning ignorance. Not that he was counting on it to work.

 

“Don’t play coy with me. I meant the duel. Such a rare occurrence would never be dismissed as mere magical accident. Our grand duel has been the talk of the whole school while you resided here.”

 

Seeing that Harry did not have any intention to budge, Riddle explained, “I did some extensive research on what happened that day,” Harry inwardly guessed it was in the Forbidden Section, “At first, I thought it was a branch of Light Magic that I never delved into as it lacked the rich essence of Dark Magic. Took me until the next day to conclude it wasn’t Light Magic, either. There is one book, however, giving the closest explanation I found reasonable – a mate bond,” Riddle spat out the two last words with disgust.

 

Wrinkling his nose, Harry whole-heartedly agreed with Riddle’s view, “Merlin, no! Don’t even suggest that.” _I will jump off the Astronomy Tower if that really is the case. I don’t need any more association with the murderer._

 

“Fortunately, the tome further emphasizes the requirement of two people’s explicit consent. I was able to refute the ridiculous notion in a heartbeat. Besides, no one will ever be a match for me in terms of intellect or magical prowess.”

 

The Boy-Who-Lived rolled his eyes and gave a biting quip, “Your ego is filling up the entire bloody room, Riddle. Give the patient some space.”

 

The perfectionist Slytherin mockingly sighed, “Your dreadful language needs polishing, but at least you and I have the first mutual agreement today. I will call it an improvement.”

 

“Alright, Riddle. What else did you find?

“Unfortunately, nothing more. I will continue my research, but enough of that. I want to ask your opinion. You don’t act like you’re curious about this magical occurrence.”

 

Harry’s heart ceased beating for a second, so to cover it up he retorted, “You’re the one who did the research, Riddle. I wouldn’t have got that far if I got more than 10,000 books to search from.” _Calm down_ , he averted his gaze from the Prefect’s eyes by staring at his green tie.

 

“Yet, you do seem to have some idea of the cause behind this conundrum. I would have thought you would question my methods.”

 

“I cannot comprehend what happened either. Okay?” Which was true, Dumbledore pointed out the brother wands could not fight against each other. Nevertheless, he did not fully understand the concept of sharing the same wand core in this particular context. If Riddle had yet to commit a myriad of atrocities, why would the wands react the same way they did in the Tournament? Sure, there were no ghosts coming out of the Dark wizard’s wand this time. It should be impossible to simulate the same effect under the current circumstances.

 

Riddle could not force any more solid answer from him, so he opted to switch topics, “You seem sincere, but you’re not exactly telling the truth, either. As much as I want to learn more about your opinion, never mind, the wand is not a pressing issue. I’m more interested in you.”

 

“Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

 

Tom chuckled.

 

“Hmmm, that’s informative. But joking aside, who are you? You are a Potter, but the only officially known Potter of this generation has already graduated. You do share resemblance with him as well.”

 

“Beats me. I never really grew up with my dad and mom, so there’s no way to say if I am directly related to him.”

 

“You… never knew your parents?”

 

“Yeah. You?”

 

The two souls remained silent, until the handsome boy replied, “… No, I never met them.” Riddle peered at his fringe, “Is that a scar on your forehead?”

 

Quickly putting his hand over the scar, he yelled, “DON’T TOUCH IT!”

 

Harry could feel a swirl of heat concentrating on his forehead. Because of his repetitive nightmares from Voldemort, the frightened boy did not even realize his scar did not hurt. Yet feeling the hot sensation alone reminded him of the seething pain Voldemort constantly inflicted upon him, so he would not let the Slytherin heir touch the scar.

 

“Relax, Potter. I only notice that your scar has a tint of Dark essence… Maybe I can try to conceal it…”

 

In his frantic state, Harry would have none of it, so he pushed Riddle away, “Stay away from me!”

 

Fortunately, the other Slytherin landed on another sick bed, instead of the cold stone floor. Tom straightened himself back to a standing position, and he was not too happy about being manhandled. Just as he was about to scold Harry, the Slytherin saw fear and distrust in Harry’s eyes, so he changed his expression and calmly sought him out instead.

 

“What have I done to make you hate me so much, Potter? We have only met less than a week ago. If you’re pulling out our political debate a few days ago, that can be found just between any disagreeing parties in the war. Oh don’t give me that look, other purebloods wouldn’t have been so civilized back at our dorm. You are better off learning this lesson quick. Or you will land in the wrong place amongst the snakes.”

 

The speaking boy sat down to meet Harry’s eye level, “And what makes your verdant eyes burn like Killing Curse towards me one second, and then run away the next, just when you are the first to manage throwing me off guard? Are you scared of me or your power?” Harry looked to the person opposite of him and pondered his answer. The façade of a comforting gesture did not fool him, and he remembered his objective in this timeline. It would not hurt to sacrifice tiny bits of his history in order to build trust.

 

“… Alright, Riddle. I at least owe you this one explanation. The way you grace yourself… reminds me of the man who killed my parents. I apologize that I took my anger out on you. You’re correct about not having hurt me or my family,” _Yet._ “And I can’t promise I will be a cocky ponce like the rest of our House, but I will keep an open mind.”

 

“I accept your apology, Potter. My curiosity got the better of me this time. I did not know you harbour trauma from the scar. It is beneficial for both of us to reconcile… whatever is between us.” The tone was not apologetic, but it was the closest to an apology he would get from the future Dark Lord.

 

“Truce?”

 

“Accepted. And here’s your wand.”

 

Riddle’s fingers brushed past his, and a euphoric feeling surged from Harry’s magic core through the wand, which was unbelievable because he did not know the core could be this…alive. Stealing a glance at his definitely-not-friend, the feelings were shared. One second of the amazing feeling stalled like a decade, and it took both of them a strong push of will to strike it down.

 

In his haste to the exit, Tom left without bidding him good night, murmuring something about another mystery to be solved.

 

With his wand back, Harry reluctantly thanked the Prefect in his heart even though the other Slytherin had demanded something in exchange. Nevertheless, he still took the trouble to deliver his lost treasure. It was a good start. For now.

 

Morning dawn steadily rose from the green horizon of the Forbidden Forest. A glimpse at the panelled windows, Harry could not see anything barring the faint blue light in contrast with the grey inside his ward. Remembering where his glasses were placed, he reached for them and placed them back on his nose, then pointed his wand in a random direction. His tempus told him he should get his arse off the bed and head to the Great Hall. Thankfully, Ms. Pomfrey finally decided to let him go, seeing there was nothing wrong with his health. However, the nurse insisted on his return should anything strange came up.

 

The fifth-year Slytherin looked for a mirror in the boy’s bathroom and adjusted his tie. As he peered into his reflection, Harry discovered something new. No, the cursed scar was still glaringly obvious on his broad forehead, but an unnatural red now seeped into the marred tissue. Like blood sank into his skin and never dried up. Never was he a boy who paid attention to his appearance, and Harry had been used to hiding the scar to disassociate himself from his fame. Yet, it startled him to realize this subtle change after four days of not grooming himself. Hopefully, no one would notice it, especially Riddle, since the brat would certainly ask intrusive questions about it.

 

That said, he walked out of the bathroom and had an early breakfast in the Great Hall. Only a handful of people were awake so early, and Harry appreciated the anonymity and quietness given his status as a time traveller. For the first time, the once procrastinating Gryffindor was serious about his schoolwork. While sipping pumpkin juice, he spent some time catching up with his homework and reading the required chapters of his school books. Even Harry himself was surprised by his newfound diligence, although he only reason he was cramming before school opened was in order to prepare to confront Voldemort. When a first-year girl came to greet him and eat breakfast, Harry had a little chat with her. The girl’s name was Eileen Prince, and he learned that she was friends with Alphard. Eileen was very polite if a bit quiet. When Eileen addressed him, it was as if she was showing cautious respect. Harry did not know why she would do so. He had not been at the dorm for the whole week; it was hard to say how his duel with Riddle affected his standing in the snake den.

 

After there was nothing left to do, the Potter boy headed to the dungeons for Potions. Being the first to arrive, Harry quietly sat in the front row. There was no one. Not even Professor Slughorn. Having already reviewed the chapters, the lone Slytherin waited and stared blankly into the blackboard and ingredient drawers. Idly surveying the room, his feet tapped to the rhythm of a song from the music class of his primary school. Where the song reached the chorus, he hummed when he forgot those parts of the lyrics. In this peaceful moment, he owned the course of action. He made no mistake as far as he was concerned.

 

He ceased humming at the end of the song. Then, Harry began to re-evaluate every small detail back in his duel with Riddle. The entire event was bizarrely similar to what happened at the graveyard. How scary Riddle was when the image of Voldemort overlapped with the young Prefect and intensified his fear. When the souls of his parents stopped Voldemort from killing him, he leapt for the opportunity to escape and never turned back to witness the wrath of the Dark Lord. Now, he could only think the fury must have been a hundred times more intense than Riddle’s.

 

 _Clink_.

 

Harry paused and angled his torso in the direction of the entrance, and the creaking door revealed Tom Riddle. They kept their gazes on each other, wordless. The chamber resonated with the sounds of Riddle’s rustling robe. The unruffled textiles flowed in a streamline motion that would put a Dementors’ languid form to shame. Harry could not keep his eyes off the handsome boy. Because their tentative truce had cast his nemesis in a new light, the Boy-Who-Lived was able to see Tom Riddle for who he was now, rather than the man he would be come in many years’ time.

 

Voldemort never compromised. This young boy in front of him was different.

 

They sat together though the Potions lesson in silence. Aurèl was relieved to see Harry in one piece, but Yi-Liang dragged him and took a seat near them to observe the changed dynamic between the two. Copying the witch, Riddle’s followers were surprised to witness the peace and pretended to go about their own business while spying on their leader and the newcomer. None of them could figure out the sudden change of dynamics.

Strangely, the Slytherins, especially Riddle’s lot, went on with their own business. Nott silently glared at Harry’s back but Malfoy restrained the other pureblood by putting a hand on his shoulder. However, the blonde boy’s own speculating glance did not escape Harry’s notice. In the DADA class, Avery (he recalled the boy was Aurèl’s roommate) volunteered to join him and Aurèl when he was left out. The young man flashed his white teeth in a bright smile, seeming friendlier than Nott and Malfoy. Even other Slytherins he did not know before tersely greeted him. The new phenomenon was gnawing his nerves.

 

Later, in the library, students were writing their homework essays. Mr. Clayworth, the librarian in this period, was categorizing the books in subject order where clumsy students misplaced them. Fortunately, the Boy-Who-Was-Now-Slytherin was sitting with Yi in a hidden corner and waiting for Aurèl to show up. He felt the intense stare from his female friend while he was absent-mindedly reading whatever was on his desk. Oh, the book was upside-down, no wonder he did not know what the book was saying.

 

Not before he could excuse himself, Yi broke the silence and said, “So when did you and Riddle get so… _friendly_ this morning?”

 

Harry sighed at the witch’s question. He simply had no desire to talk about it, but he needed to appease his friend anyway,

 

“He gave me back my wand, so we called it even. Happy?”

 

“Do you have any idea how long we’ve been searching for _your_ wand _?_ Riddle had it all along but did not have the decency to deliver it until last night! Excuse my scepticism but he is definitely up to something. Did he ask anything from you?”

 

“Only my opinion about what happened at the duel, and he said he wanted to know more about me.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“It’s no big deal, Yi-Liang. Soon, he will forget about me.” _I hope._

 

“No big deal?! Riddle has told every single Slytherin not to give you trouble, subtly of course. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he wants to collect you as part of his cult. Seriously, every boy in his group worships the ground he walks on.”

 

“No way. He never mentioned anything like that last night he snuck into the ward.”

 

“He came to meet you during the night? Wow, that’s too much information there.”

 

“Hey!” An indignant Harry protested.

 

“I jest, Harry. But really, be careful. Before I forget, did you see Aurèl after Potions by any chance?”

 

“No. He should be here anytime soon. He probably just finished Ancient Runes.”

 

“…I see. Don’t lose sight of him, then.”

 

With that said, the witch gathered her belongings and headed to her Arithmancy class. She greeted Aurèl on her way out, and the Austrian wizard started studying next to him. His usual cheerful composition lessened, and his face was ash-white like a ghost.

 

“Hey, Aurèl. You look terrible. Do you need something?”

 

“No, Har. It’s alright. Say, I did promise to teach you how to ward your stuff! Take out your vand now!”

 

So the blond boy smoothened his hair and tutored him until supper started. Harry also noticed bags under Aurèl’s bright eyes. When asked, Aurèl switched to another topic. It seemed best he should look out for his friend when Aurèl was less guarded.

At night, Harry visited the Owlery with a bag of owl treats. Merely at the tip of autumn, the chill had begun to settle at Hogwarts. Torches flickered when evening wind swept into any crack in the windows. Still, the cold could not deter the young hero’s excitement to see his animal friend.

 

Following the winding staircase, the smell of bird feces was becoming more prominent. The lights were not out yet, but it would soon dim as the time approached towards curfew.

 

Immediately to his right, Harry spotted a white owl cleaning and grooming her feathered wings. As he got closer to Hedwig, the ferocious bird hissed at him and used her talons to scratch his face – not strong enough to make him bleed, but the pain conveyed her message.

 

The panicked Slytherin begged for mercy of his animal companion, “OWW, ouch! That hurt. Hedwig, I’m sorry! Listen… AH! Okay, here are some premium treats for you! No more pecking. I was knocked out during the first week. I know I should have come sooner, but sorry anyway.”

 

The white bird immediately stopped pecking his nose, and bit into the snacks in Harry’s fingers. Fortunately, Aurèl kindly lent his owl treats to Harry. With Hedwig appeased by the gift, he only hoped no one would witness his undignified moment.

 

Harry fondly caressed Hedwig’s soft wings, “You know, I must be a masochist. How come I endure your temper and still love you so much?”

 

Closing her eyes, Hedwig preened under the affectionate strokes. Minutes passed by, and the owl was getting more complacent with his massage. Harry knew it was a good time to demand her courier services. It was strange to beg your owl to do her work, but Hedwig was his familiar (according to Hermione) so they had mutual respect for each other and a more enduring relationship (than a normal person would have with a post owl).

 

“Hey, girl. Do you think you can send this note back and grab a few things for me?” asked Harry with a poorly concealed shit-eating grin, knowing his owl would be upset.

 

His dear owl gawked at him like he was crazy. The lower eyelids covered the lower portion of the white owl’s yellow eyes, mimicking the human expression of suspicion. Hedwig was judging her dearest Harry’s sanity. After all her efforts to reach and protect him, she was going back again?! The proud owl puffed out her feathery chest, expressing her strong disapproval. _How dare you_ , thought Hedwig.

 

“I understand you just came here to find me, but young Voldie is here. So I need all the sources I have to my advantage. It was an accident that I stumbled into 40s, but I want to go back in one piece with good information. Perhaps it can help us stop the war!”

 

Hedwig remained silent though her expressive eyes showed she was less angry.

 

As a sign to continue, Harry tied a letter around her leg, “Give this letter to Dobby. And don’t let Ron or Hermione or other people find the slip, okay? They have not contacted me in the summer because Professor Dumbledore said so. I understand they mean well, but I cannot trust them at the moment.”

 

Hedwig was still not responding, so he hastily added, “I have to try. I don’t want to die either. That’s why I’m counting on you, since you seem to have the ability to travel back and forth. You know I wouldn’t trust anyone other than _you_.”

 

As soon as he uttered the last word ‘you’, Hedwig slumped her shoulders (or rather wings) in defeat.

 

“Thank you, Hedwig.”

 

The owl finally caved in to Harry’s pleas. She knew how dangerous Snake Man could be. If Harry ever died, she would live in guilt for the rest of her life. Her round head gently bumped into Harry’s warm palm for small comfort. Ready to take off, she flapped and spanned her wings. As the white messenger soared into the starry sky, Harry gratefully waited for her return.


	7. In For A Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta - Yumenotsuzuki
> 
> Happy New Year (belatedly)! It sucks to be back to school, but only one more term and I am done! Woo-hoo. I hope you didn't wait too long! Enjoy, and thank you for your comments. They keep me fueled up at hard times during school.
> 
> Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter

By the time Hedwig arrived and gave him what he needed, it was one hour to midnight. The little Marauder (Sirius had officially inducted him during the summer) hugged Hedwig and let her rest. The shrunken luggage was stored in his pocket, and the adventurous Slytherin donned his Invisibility Cloak, whispering the secret of the Map, crisp and smooth in his hands.

 

“I swear I am up to no good.”

 

At his command, buildings and names faded in. The parchment traced the Hogwarts’ corridors and names. On the first floor, Professor Dumbledore was patrolling the hallway, and Professor Merrythought was with a student named Jeremy Douglas in her office. On a section of moving stairs, names of his roommates and other people he did not know were ascending to the tower.

 

_ Tom Marvolo Riddle _

_ Abraxas Malfoy        Cygnus Black_

_ Tyrell Nott   Romanus Lestrange_

_ Evan Rosier   Moran Mulciber_

_ Silas Avery    _ _Alexander Carrow _

 

 

 

Realizing the Slytherins were going up, Harry quickened his pace to catch up with the group. They seemed to be above the Gryffindor dormitory.

_Maybe to an empty classroom? But in that case, wouldn’t they stick to dungeons to avoid the patrolling professors and Prefects?  If so, that just means they’re up to something sinister._

The cloaked boy carefully examined the Map again and stopped his feet when all the mini Death Eaters paused on the 7th floor.

 

In the corner, he saw the dark, hooded figures had cancelled their Disillusionment Charm. Spurred by curiosity, Harry gathered his act together and trailed right behind the group.

 

They wandered to the end corridor of seventh floor, then Riddle wordlessly unlocked a door. Shocked to see a new, materialized room, Potter checked the Map but he saw nothing at the same location. The door opened to welcome the crowd, and The Boy-Who-Broke-Too-Many-Rules-To-Count slipped into the room along with the Slytherin boys.

 

Draco’s grandfather said, “…What about Grindelwald? He is fairly successful on the Continent. It’s only a matter of time he will lead his force here.”

 

“You think he is scared of Dumbledore?” an unknown voice answered back.

 

“We shall see.”

 

In the middle of the room, the leader stood on the stage. A marble altar was placed in front of the followers. The followers shuffled around and settled themselves on the uncomfortably posh chairs.

 

Looking down on his friends, Riddle announced, “It is good to see all of you gather tonight. I assume you all have practiced over the summer? Shall we start honing your skills?”

 

Several enthusiastic nods and hollering brought a lop-sided smile to Riddle’s cold face. Harry could vaguely see Riddle signaling the people to quiet down and waving his wand.

 

There on the altar table, a ginger mouse materialized and squeaked at the contact of cold surface. Sniffing the scent around it and unaware of the looming danger. The invisible boy shuddered as all the Slytherins giddily sniggered at the sight of the insignificant creature, barring Riddle, who remained expressionless. His grey eyes assessed the little rodent. His dark wood wand was pointed at the small target. Without even pronouncing an incantation, the mouse shrieked in horror and fell into a disoriented state. Stumbling backwards, the animal jerked sideways as the spell held on. Maniacal laughter echoed in the chamber. When the mouse could no longer withstand whatever the spell was, it lost consciousness. Riddle used _Rennervate_ on it. His void eyes swept to his pupils and urged them to come forward for more “hands-on” practice.

 

In short, for the next ten minutes, they kept ‘honing their skills’ using the poor thing.

 

 _Crucio_ seemed like a child’s play when Riddle personally casted spells he could not even pronounce. One moment the little mouse was relieved, next it felt terrified by things it could not see. However, seconds later, it was squeaking contently as if it had not been tormented in the first place. The happiness did not last long however, and the spell quickly transitioned into a state of fury as the mouse tried to bite off Lestrange’s finger.

 

After a few more rounds, Riddle disbanded the group and warned them to keep up the schoolwork and their secret assignments. Each Death Eater cloaked himself and went out of the door one by one, abandoning the rodent on the altar. Bile rose in his throat at the sight of the black goo coughing out of the mouse’s mouth. Harry held his breath until the last member of the group opened the door for him to get away. However, when he attempted to exit the room, he bumped into the shut gate.

 

“Now, it’s just you and me. Potter. Have a seat,” said Riddle on a comfy sofa near the fireplace, which came out of nowhere.

 

_Oh no. How did he know?_

 

With no choice but to follow, Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak and sat on a leather chair facing Riddle’s front.

 

“The room alarms me of any intruder; it listens to my command. I could have exposed you right there, but I thought better of it. So, what should I do with you? You are not supposed to be here. I cannot very well deduct points from our House. My colleagues would be very upset if they found out.”

 

Harry frowned, “Colleagues? That’s what you call your friends?”

 

“We dine, sleep, study, and live in the same castle. Simple as that. I let them assume what they want to believe. Milk or sugar?”

 

“Three cubes of sugar.”

 

A cup of warm tea was delivered to his hand, while Riddle sipped his milk tea, “So Potter. What do you think about our extracurricular activities?”

 

“Why you can torture a poor animal without feeling guilt is beyond me.”

 

A mocking voice responded, “Would you prefer to practice on humans, then? The idea does have its merits, I have to admit. It is difficult to tell the expression of a beast. Human are more expressive with their faces and behaviours. Besides, most of the animals can’t talk.”

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“So am I. However, I deduce you came because you want to learn. By talking to someone who can teach you without judgment, or simply offer an unexplored perspective, seeing you don’t entirely trust us.”

 

Skeptical, Harry squinted his eyes and asked, “Don’t you want something in return?”

 

“Only when it’s appropriate. In this case, I don’t deem it necessary since many Neutral or Light students came to see me with similar questions about the Dark. Hopefully, our conversation will enlighten you, maybe more than you anticipate.”

 

“There is one spell that I did not recognize. What is it? The mouse was sad, then happy, but quickly resorted to anger.”

 

The smug Slytherin perked up, “Hmmm, didn’t expect you notice that one. How should I put this? A variation of a modern convention. A newborn out of the stagnant literature of magic.”

 

“Just tell me if it’s Dark or not.”

 

“I beg your pardon, Potter. How do you know what is Light, Dark, or even neutral? Especially when a spell has not been recognized, let alone classified by the politicians for the past millennium.”

 

Harry blinked, but he soon came upon realization, “You invented the spell?”

 

Shrugging, the grey-eyed Slytherin looked bored, “Why not? The intellectual pursuit should never stop at basic education. Without proper stimuli, our mind and body wither and fade. No challenge, no thinking, no growth. Dark spells could be used in the battle by both sides of the wars. It was only later that each got banned by the Ministry one by one. That is not to say that Light spells are not banned. Here let me show you.”

 

That said, a stuffed dummy was erected, and he heard Riddle recite, “The Olde Religion was the foundation of Chaotic Magic, which was an older name for Dark Magic. Until the Roman Empire introduced their Latin words, we did not even need wands. Magic is about power and _vindictiveness_.”

 

“I think you mean intention? I don’t recall any textbook using such negative word.”

 

“No, Potter. I believe it is appropriate. Intention has to be strong enough to stimulate our magic core. Otherwise, nothing will work. Have you wondered why a few wizards and witches are particularly strong? Their fury is something to behold when crossed. There is no stronger emotion than hate and anger.”

 

“You don’t need to feel angry to achieve amazing feats, you know.”

 

The prefect chuckled, “Then, you have never been truly angry, or rather, your idealistic moral views have kept you in check.”

 

“I still believe what I said.”

 

“Suit yourself. I was going to talk about the Roman influence on the Chaotic Magic. Yes. The line between Chaos and Order used to be very clear because Anglo-Saxon words usually only contain one or two syllables. Latin, on the other hand, is a very complex language, more syllables for one word, compared to Olde English. As the complexity was woven into our ancestors’ language, the distinction of the two branches was blurred, and most of the magic spells we learn today came into fruition.”

 

“So you’re saying Latin messed up our ancestors’ understanding of magic, but they rolled along with it anyway?”

 

“Not quite. English was not reconstructed per se, but rather shaped and refined by the external influences. The study of linguistics is very fascinating. How the construction of our language can affect the alignment of modern politics and religion. The Chinese system of magic, for example, is a completely different story. It remains the same even after thousands of years because their community and culture were relatively more independent and steadfast. They even spread their teachings to their neighbour countries, along with their own language.”

 

The green-eyed listener’s sense of duty was clashing against his noble heart. Like Riddle said, there was no black and white. Worse was that the infuriating Dark Lord made sound arguments, too. Before he knew it, green eyes drooped as he immersed himself in Riddle’s engaging story, but not really catching every word uttered by Riddle’s rich and steady voice. The fireplace brightly burned behind them, soothing his nerves. Harry let his tense body relax into the cushion.

 

No matter how much he did not want to trust Tom, it was getting easier to inwardly call the Slytherin heir by his first name to distinguish him from the furious wraith he would become in the future. He had a truce with a sane person, and it was nice to not face the same crazy snake man as back in his time.

 

He needed to find out Riddle’s secrets as soon as he could. Maybe he could stop the trigger that started Tom’s descent into madness.

 

However, time was of essence. He would have to hone his mind and strength for the best and the worst possible outcome of his foray into the past.  


 

_And I can learn the best from my enemy himself._

 

Interrupting his thoughts, Riddle casually changed the topic, “Oh, on a different note, you might want to watch out for some of the Durmstrang students.”

 

“Why? Because they are threatening your territory?”

 

“No, Potter. Get over your thick head, and look at what’s happening to your surroundings.”

 

“What are you talking about? Hogwarts is a safe place to be, right?”

 

_It’s not like I will have the undivided attention of another Dark Lord._

 

“You may think that, but it does not mean the castle is free of the politics of war.”

 

“That’s not helping.”

 

“And I have no obligation to babysit you, Potter. Go, you are tired. Return to the dorm.”

 

Indignant because of the ambiguous hints and dismissal, Harry picked up his Invisibility Cloak and vanished from the Chamber, not noticing that Tom Riddle was watching him through the snake statues hidden in plain sight.

 

Next morning, Harry forgot about Riddle’s warning, if one could even decipher his message, and woke up with bleary eyes. Once he finished cleaning up, the boy with a bird’s nest on his head sauntered to the Slytherin Common Room. Upon seeing a crowd gathered there at this unusual hour, he blinked and made a beeline for the nearest person he knew.

 

“Hey, Alphard,” Harry greeted the young Black with an edge of worry in his voice. “What happened? Everyone seemed nervous.”

 

“There was an attack on one of the Durmstrang students. No one knows when or how it happened.”

 

Alphard frowned and thinned his lips as if he was hesitating on something.

 

“Yes, Alphard?”

 

“I… I hate to say this, Harry. When I tried to sneak past the teachers this morning, get a look of the victim’s face. I may be wrong, but… I think he is one of your friends. The one with blond hair. The Chinese girl is with him at - “

 

Not waiting for Alphard to finish the sentence, the Boy-Who-Lived bolted for the door and ran past the Slytherins, disregarding their obvious disapproval. The school hallway was not as bright and colourful as he remembered. His heart beat rapidly, letting his Quidditch training take control of his legs. Thanks to Oliver’s Spartan practice regime, the worried Slytherin quickly arrived at the Infirmary. The room was covered in a grey array of light from the windows. Slughorn and Dippet were standing by a sickbed not far away from Harry’s view. Yi-Liang was sitting beside Aurèl’s prone form. Their unconscious friend had his head heavily bandaged. Harry’s feet closed the distance and stood next to the girl. Harry noticed the steady breathing and the upheavals of Aurel’s small chest, so he let out a sigh of relief.

 

The Headmaster worriedly discussed the attack with their Head of House, “It’s only been a few days, now we have an incident.”

 

“But Headmaster, Mr. Duràndi is a gentle soul, never starts a fight. My, from what I’ve observed, he is a quiet and studious boy!”

 

“I trust your judgment, Horace. There has not been any inter-house incidents at least, save for Ms. Johnson jinxing Mr. Lockhart for insulting her complexion, but that’s irrelevant,” Dippet turned to Harry and his friend, “Mr. Potter, and Ms. Li, can you tell me anything about Mr. Duràndi? Something to do with his… relations with his classmates from Durmstrang.”

 

Yi-Liang stiffly answered but not before correcting Dippet’s mistake, “It’s Ms. Si, sir, and no. As his close friend for many years, I can vouch that Aurèl does not have any trouble with his peers.”

 

Taking her answer at face value, Headmaster nodded and motioned Slughorn to deal with the paperwork. Harry and Yi had the privacy to speak among themselves, minus the sleeping male patient.

 

“So…what happened? I just heard from Alphard that he was injured.”

 

“Aurèl was found in the hallway on the second floor this morning.”

 

“If he was placed in plain sight, shouldn’t the professors or prefects have heard any commotion, or seen a suspect?”

 

Yi-Liang propped her cheek on her hand,

 

“Of course not. Aurèl was hit with very severe vexation jinx and cutting hex, too. Someone dumped him in the hallway and erased their magical signature, so they can hide their tracks.”

 

“What is this vexation jinx?”

 

“Sometimes, I forget Hogwarts does not have an extensive curriculum like we do. It’s a very efficient hex. Makes the victim unconscious, but also gives them a kind of nightmare. As they slowly fade into unconsciousness, the hallucinations would haunt them over and over again. There is no serious side effect, but it’s a pain in the arse anyway.”

 

“You told Dippet that he has no enemies from your old school. You’re lying.”

 

“Good catch, Harry. Aurèl… let’s just say, was not popular back at our school. His grandmother is a muggle-born. Despite his pureblood last name, many scorn the status of his maternal side’s bloodline.”

 

Harry tightly clutched the white bed sheets, “That’s bollocks! I have a muggle-born friend, and I swear she is the brightest witch of our age. Well, you don’t know her, but you know what I mean.”

 

“I don’t doubt it, Harry. Yet, many people in the magic world do not have the same exposure to muggles as you and I have. The establishment of the Statute of Secrecy discourages any contact with muggles. The popularity of the pureblood bias you know today rises over the time amongst purebloods. Their minds are confined in the social circles that exclude anyone who is not similar to them. I have it better than Aurèl even though I occasionally hear racial slurs about me; my pureblood status and dueling prowess made me invulnerable to the real social threats. We have many students of various origins, but the non-Europeans always, _always_ get a second-class treatment.”

 

“But you are brilliant, and your English is impeccable.”

 

“Harry, that’s not what I am referring to. Respect should not be given simply on the basis of my endeavour to better my education. I can speak more languages than those Durmstrang prats, and they don’t even know half the things I can do to sear their butts. Hell, Aurèl is just as capable as me, but he is too gentle to do any harm.”

 

Harry flinched at Yi-Liang’s rant while she huffed and sat cross-legged on the wooden chair.

 

“I am sorry, you’re right. My mistake. I should have been careful with my wording.”

 

The young witch waved him off, “I know you mean no harm, but after some time, it gets exhausting listening all the crap.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not fair for you.”

 

“If life was fair, I wouldn’t bother to enroll in an international boarding school in the first place when I can go to the Royal Academy my family has always attended in China,” the girl snorted, “But I want something different, and you want it, too.”

 

“Yes… and I wish Aurèl had it better here. You still haven’t told me who attacked him.”

 

“I am not saying there is only one.”

 

“There are more?” Harry's jaw dropped at the implication.

 

“Yeah, their leader is in Gryffindor, Jo Brahms. Another in Hufflepuff, Kalevi Järvinen. The other two are older students in our Slytherin house. I think it’s Jan Paulissen and Sven something. A bunch of rude, arrogant purebloods.”

 

“I will keep them in mind.”

 

“If you’re planning on avenging our friend, count me in and wait.”

 

“I was going to say we report this to Slughorn. I don’t trust him; I usually take things into my own hands. But the spells they performed were probably Dark. In that case, it’s against Hogwarts rules, and we have evidence.”

 

“Are you serious? Hogwarts has literally no authority to interfere into Durmstrang students’ affairs. They are responsible for our health and safety, or perhaps checking if we act out of line. Brahms’ father is a highly ranked official in the Ministry of Germany, negotiating trade with your Ministry. See? The school will give them the most lenient punishment possible, and that won’t stop those four from acting again. So we wait.”

 

“Now you’re talking. We need to do something before they strike again. We can be stealthy.”

 

“Brahms and his cohorts are not dim-witted. They won’t do anything while Aurèl is still in the sickbed. In the meantime, we should find more concrete evidence of their deeds. Or better yet, fabricate one. Then, we destroy them.”

 

“Please tell me you’re joking about the ‘fabricate evidence’ part. I never knew you could be so devious.”

 

“And you don’t mind the destruction of Brahms, so what does that make of you?”

 

The girl arched her eyebrow, and they stopped at that. It was at the exact moment, Harry’s stomach growled in protest. He blushed at the loud sound his body produced.

 

Yi rolled her eyes, “Go get yourself some food. If you rush, you might get some leftovers from breakfast. I will be watching him.”

 

“Okay. I will be back sometime today.”

 

“Don’t get caught up with Riddle again. Seems like he is really set on you joining his little gang.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I will be off.”

 

So the hungry wizard marched towards the Dining Hall. He kept wondering why Yi-Liang was so adamant about Riddle’s focus on him, as if he would ever befriend him. Although he was now civil with his future arch nemesis, the Saviour simply wanted to keep his enemy closer, like he did the night before.

 

 _Wait, didn’t Riddle mention something about Durmstrang students being a menace? Does he know more than he lets on? What if the smug bastard has something I can use against Brahms? Maybe I can offer him something for that piece of information_ _._

 

For the first time since the time travel accident, Harry was looking forward to talking with the dangerous man. However that would definitely wait until after he got his breakfast because his belly was making even more strange noises. Thank Merlin no one was nearby to hear him, least of all Riddle, or so he thought.


End file.
